


Unsteady - A George Weasley Love Story

by amandacoronadowrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Cormac McLaggen - Freeform, Crushes, F/M, Friends to Lovers, George Weasley Needs a Hug, George Weasley is a Good Friend, Idiots in Love, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Sad George Weasley, Slow Burn, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 78,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandacoronadowrites/pseuds/amandacoronadowrites
Summary: Persephone Dankworth has spent the last three years working a repetitive Ministry job and in an unhappy relationship. After realizing how empty her life had become, she leaves everything behind and stumbles across an unlikely job for the Ravenclaw - Office Manager for Weaselys' Wizard Wheezes. She hopes to find what she lost in the war: hope.George Weasley has spent the last three years alone, hiding away in his flat with little contact outside of his family.  He's been unable to move on from the death of his brother - how can he when he sees him every time he looks in a mirror? He's let their shop become another wound of the war, and without fast action, it'll be just another casualty.Can the two overcome their past and leave the unsteady ground they stand on? Or are they too far gone?
Relationships: George Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28
Collections: Fred and George Weasley, Weasley twins





	1. The Job Offer

Ginny sighed into her hands. She and Ron had sat through thirteen out of the fourteen interviews they had scheduled. She could say with certainty that at least thirteen out of fourteen candidates were either unqualified, unimpressive, or simply unhireable. If the last interview continued on the same trend, they'd never find a capable office manager for the shop.

"At this rate, we'll never find someone," Ron groaned beside her, equally frustrated by their unfortunate pool of interviewees. He pushed his obnoxiously long hair back, having been unable to find time to get a proper trim in months. "Hermione will kill me if I keep missing out on all her important events- which, for her, is all of them."

Ginny knew it to be true. Ron had been helping at the shop for over two years now. He barely had time to sleep anymore between his duties as an Auror, being Hermione's boyfriend, and keeping the place afloat. It was surprising Hermione had let it go on for as long as it had already. "We have one more interview, let's beg Merlin that it's a good one. Who is it?"

Ron looked down at the stack of parchment in his hand before replying, "Persephone Dankworth."

"The Ravenclaw?" Ginny asked, her face scrunching in confusion.

Ron mirrored her expression, looking back down at the paper for confirmation. "Yeah. I don't think I've talked to her since the DA. It's gotta be a joke though, right? She'd never go for this job, she's been with the Ministry for ages."

Ginny nodded, pulling out her rather impressive resume from the pile. There were no less than six matters of recommendation attached. "Yeah in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Dad's old department. Looks like she might have worked under him for a bit. He's not listed as a reference, though."

"Pretty sure she was working with McLaggen, probably why she wants this job. Must be desperate to get away from that tosser."

She shrugged at her brother, remembering how Cormac McLaggen had tried to woo Hermione during her sixth year much to her annoyance. "It says she left a couple of months ago, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was an issue. Let's keep our fingers crossed, if this is real, then she's our best hope."

At the stroke of noon, a tiny knock rang through the office they'd rented for the day. Ginny called for them to come in and in walked the young woman, dressed in muggle-like business attire with her hair pinned back out of her face. "Good afternoon," she smiled.

"Hello, Persephone. It's good to see you," Ginny admitted honestly. They'd never exactly been friends, more of friendly acquaintances, but she'd fought alongside them when it counted and managed to leave a sizable impression in several people's minds because of it. She'd kept herself off the radar since, but Ginny hadn't forgotten.

Ron nodded. "Damn right it is. These interviews have been bloody excruciating."

Ginny gave him a quick elbow before asking Persephone to take a seat across from them. The interview went smoothly and neither Weasley were able to hide their excitement very well. Persephone was more than they had hoped for, having been not too far behind Hermione in class, but never obnoxious about it. Not to mention her apparent success in the Ministry that caused so many of its employees to write her recommendations.

Though the more Ginny thought about it, the stranger it became. If she had been such an excellent employee, why had she left without a new job already lined up? The shop would pay less and it didn't carry the prestige or power or opportunities that a Ministry position offered.

"So can you tell us why you decided to leave the Ministry? And why you want to work for a joke shop instead?" Ginny asked, hoping there wouldn't be some terrible revelation that lingered over their seemingly perfect candidate.

Persephone took a deep breath, knowing the question had been coming. "Well," she started, "I joined the Ministry not long after the war ended. It was where I needed to be, helping to fix our broken system and keeping people safe. There was still a lot of fear and a lot of people wanting to take advantage of that. Things have gotten better and the work started to slow down, so I had more time to actually think about my future. I realized that I didn't know what I wanted in mine, but that I couldn't see myself working there forever. So I quit. I've had a few offers since, but none of them felt right."

"Then I heard about an office manager job at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and it clicked. I could see myself here. Sure, maybe it's just a joke shop, but here I could be part of something that brings people happiness. After everything that's happened, I think we all need more of that."

Ginny knew they'd found the perfect person for the job. Maybe not the one they'd been expecting, but perfect nonetheless. She felt confident that they could leave the shop in her hands.

"Well I think we only have one more question," Ron offered, looking to his sister for confirmation.

Ginny nodded in agreement before they both asked, "When can you start?"

Persephone smiled. "How about tomorrow?"  
  
  


**_Persephone_ **

The morning after my interview, I met with Ginny outside Weasley Wizard Wheezes. If it hadn't been clear enough the day before, it was very obvious now that she was excited to have me on the payroll. With my new set of keys, she gave me a tour of the shop to explain what each one did, where to find certain things, and to give the general layout of the place. She led me up a small staircase in the back of the shop to a door and turned to me with a slight grimace.

"This is the office. Now, I have to warn you, it is a bit of a mess. Ron's been doing most of the work and well..." She opened the door, letting the disaster speak for itself. And boy, did it have a lot to say.

Mostly it screamed, "Sweet Merlin help me, no one's organized me properly in years!"

"Did I scare you away already?"

I shook my head, fighting back the anxiety that had begun to claw at me. "No, not at all. Seems like a, um - like a fun challenge."

She gave me a pity filled smile. "Well, hopefully it's not as bad as it looks." She checked her watch. "Bullocks, I've got to get going. Do you have any questions before I head off?"

Looking back in the office, one thing stood out in the mess. "There's only one desk. Your brother won't mind me using it, will he?"

"Oh no, Ron will be fine with it. I doubt he'll want to see that chair for a long time."

"Actually, I meant the other brother. George, to be specific."

The semblance of a smile slipped off her face at the mention of her elder brother. "You probably won't be seeing much of him down here. He tends to stick to his apartment. It's been difficult for him after we lost Fred." She looked out over the shop, a shadow of sadness over her face "He knows we hired you, of course, so if you ever need him you can just go knock."

I didn't want to push the subject further, knowing the kind of pain that came with such a loss. I simply thanked her and let her get on with her day, knowing I'd be spending the rest of mine trying to fix the office.  
  


Unfortunately, I'd been wrong about the office. It was, in fact, not a fun challenge.

I'd been practically living in my new office for two weeks now, deciphering the so-called filing system that had been in place and creating a new one that even Ron wouldn't be able to ruin if he were to ever lay his hands on it again. Though I doubted I would ever let him touch it, just in case.

It hadn't been easy and there had been several late nights, but the proud feeling as I looked over the clean and organized office was well worth it. Content with a job well done, I checked it off my list of to-dos.

Now I could spend a couple of days working down in the shop to get a feel for it before I spent another week or so checking over all the paperwork I'd only skimmed during the organization process. It would also give me a chance to see how to appropriately staff the place once I took over scheduling at the end of the month.

Only one of the shop's assistants was working today. Bini, a Hufflepuff who had been one year my junior at Hogwarts, stood behind the counter looking bored out of his mind.

"G'mornin' Bini. Thought I'd get a feel for the shop today if that's alright with you?"

He looked up at me startled. "Oh, yeah, no problem Miss Dankworth. I could certainly use the company, it's been slower than normal today."

"Has it?" I asked. "How many customers have we had?"

"None."

None? It was nearly three in the afternoon, almost four hours since we'd opened, and we hadn't had a single person walk through our door? "How many customers do we usually get a day?"

He scrunched his nose before offering, "About three or four. Twenty if we're lucky when school is out."

I could hardly believe that. Sure, I hadn't been to the shop since it first opened all the way back in sixth year, but the place had been packed. I could remember watching even the teachers hiding packages their owls had dropped off that looked suspiciously similar to the disguised products students had received when their products were banned. They'd even managed to continue their business while they were literally on the run and people risked their lives to give them their patronage. Things couldn't have changed so drastically in a few years.

As the afternoon wore on, however, it did seem more likely. For the rest of the day, we only had two people come in. It didn't seem to be an issue with customer service, as Bini was the perfect example of friendly, helpful service. The only upside to the lack of people was my ability to learn how to do practically everything in the shop before the end of day.

"Thanks for showing me everything, have a good night," I told Bini after we finished closing up and he wrapped his scarf around him.

"Are you staying, ma'am?"

"Yeah," I said, resisting the urge to rub my eyes. I hadn't had much sleep recently. "I have a couple of things to check up on. I'll see you on Friday. Oh, and please, call me Persephone." He wished me a good night and we headed our separate ways.

As much as I would have loved to be leaving and going to sleep, I couldn't. I felt unaccomplished for the day due to how few people had actually come into the shop, like I had somehow failed. It didn't matter how much I'd actually been able to learn or get done throughout the day or that I had no control over how many people came into the shop, it would continue to gnaw at me until I did another hour or so of work as penance.

So I went through the pile of invoices that had yet to be filed, ensuring all were rectified and inputting the numbers into the new logbook since the previous one had been full of errors, red ink, and various stains. By the end of the pile, I'd only found one that still needed a signature. Unfortunately, the signature it needed wasn't my own, but my boss's.

Ginny's warning had proven correct and I had yet to see my new boss even once. With a heavy sigh, I set the parchment aside. It was too light to go on knocking on his door, meaning I'd have to wait until tomorrow and I'd be up all night because of it.

It was fine. George Weasley could have his rest for the night. But I'd be at his door as soon as the shop opened.


	2. Third Time's The Charm

George's loft was right above the shop with an outside staircase in the back leading up to his door. Shortly after the shop opened, I went and knocked. And knocked. And knocked. Ten minutes later and no response. It wasn't like it was early but in the morning, the man should be awake. Frustrated, I was on the verge of giving up and owling Ginny or Ron for help. As a last-ditch effort, I turned the knob expecting it to be locked. It wasn't.

Opening it slowly, I called in "Hello? George?"

"What do you want?" answered a voice from somewhere inside.

"It's Persephone, your new office manager. I needed your approval on something."

"I'm in the kitchen."

Shutting the door, I walked toward where I had heard his voice coming from. I couldn't help but notice how musty it smelled, like an old home that had been abandoned for several years. There were even cobwebs in the corners. I peeked through an opening, finding a very unexpected version of George Weasley.

He sat at a small table at the end of the kitchen, his ginger hair falling past his shoulders with an unruly and unkept beard covering half his face. He was even paler than I'd remembered with dark bags under his eyes. A half-eaten piece of toast and mug of coffee sat before him. "George?" I asked, unsure it was really him.

He didn't even look up at me, too intent on watching his toast. "Yes, come on. What did you need approval for?"

I handed him the invoice, keeping my distance. He didn't seem to be in the mood for company. "A shipment of the muggle magic cards from July never got paid. I needed you to sign so I could send the payment."

He didn't say a word, simply signed the invoice and shoved it back into my hands without sparing me a glance. Could toast really be more interesting?

"Umm, thank you."

He grunted and I took that as my cue to leave. My heart squeezed as I closed the door behind me, torn between sympathy and understanding that he'd gone through a traumatic loss and annoyance that he had so clearly given up. It'd been over three years since the final battle and he was letting the world leave him behind.

I couldn't dwell on it too much though. I had work to do and my own life to live.

Sending the payment off, I began working on going over the sales history. I needed to get a real projection on sales if I ever wanted to staff and stock the place appropriately. It was all too evident that Ron had been guessing and hoping with his orders and that was an unsustainable business strategy.

I started at the beginning, amazed at how they had managed to turn a profit that first year. A hefty profit. It was surprising to find that the next year they managed to continue making a profit and maintained most of their records despite their circumstances. They abruptly changed in May of 1998. Records were few and far between until near the end of 1999 when Ron's handwriting began to appear. Even then, things weren't as well maintained as they had been and Ron's maths were horrible.

I had the sickening realization that the shop was doing much worse than everyone thought. It had been operating in the negative for months on end and the cushion that had been built from those first couple of years was rapidly depleting. If things continued on as they had been, we'd be lucky to survive another year.

My head fell into the desk with a thump. I'd just started this job and it was already in jeopardy. The thought of quitting crossed my mind. After all, this wasn't exactly what I had signed up for. I'd turned down a few offers already, but maybe one of them still wanted me. A stable, sustainable job that I might be able to get some sleep with.

No, quitting wasn't the right thing to do. I thought about owling Ginny and Ron to tell them what I had discovered but thought better of it. While I knew the decline was definitely tied to George and his lack of involvement, I didn't have a fix for that. Until I had a more obtainable issue and solution, I'd keep it to myself. Otherwise, all it would do is add stress to an already stressful situation.

So, for a third time in under a month, I hunkered down at my desk and got to work.


	3. Shoving Your Nose Where It Doesn't Belong

Another week passed and I was no closer to finding an answer. Just more of what I already knew. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was failing and if something didn't happen soon, I'd be out of a job.

I decided to take a more hands on approach and looked at the area of the business that had declined most significantly: Mail Orders. We had received less than a dozen since the start of the school year, far less than the more than one hundred orders we had received at the same time a year ago which was still far less than the nearly six hundred orders from two years prior.

Why had so many people, mostly students, stopped ordering? I knew for a fact that Hogwarts no longer banned our products and they were actually favored by my old department because they were well-made prank items with no history of improper production. They only caused the damage they promised and there was a remedy for each and every one.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that the youth would have the answer for me. Pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipping my quill in ink, I set about creating a simple survey to send out to those who ordered last year. It was a brief thanks for their prior patronage followed by three questions:

_Have you shopped at Weasley Wizards Wheezes in the last six months?_

_Are you planning on ordering from Weasley Wizards Wheezes within the next month?_

_What would improve Weasley Wizards Wheezes?_

As I sent them off, I also included a nice discount for their next order for a completed survey hoping to both incentivize them to complete the survey and also stir up some business. By the end of the week, I had gotten more than half of the surveys back and they all had nearly the same answers.

_No._

__

No.

__

New products. 

__

I wanted to kick myself. The answer was so simple. New products. There hadn't been anything new released since the first year the shop had opened. People were bored and had little reason to venture in since they knew all the products. They wanted something new, something exciting.

__

And I was going to get it for them.

__

Like two weeks before, I found myself knocking on the loft door above the shop. And, like before, there was no answer to my knocks. With a little hesitation, I opened the door and called out, "Hello? It's Persephone again."

__

"Kitchen," was the only response.

__

Nothing had changed. The place still smelled musty and cobwebs still lived in the corners. In the kitchen, George sat in the same spot with possibly the same half-eaten piece of toast and same mug of coffee. "Did you need approval on something?" he asked.

__

"No, I actually need to discuss something with you."

__

He looked up at me, with dull eyes. "What?"

__

"Did you know that the shop has been operating in the red for the last several months?" I asked.

__

He shook his head, dismissing the idea before hearing the evidence. "The shop is fine, there's no way it's doing that poorly. I saw the reports last month." He waved me off, looking back to his toast.

__

With a deep breath, I opened the file I had been putting together for a week and laid it out on top of the toast. "The old reports are wrong. This is the last year of sales vs. our expenses. We've been negative since February."

__

"Your numbers are wrong," he said, closing the folder without even glancing at it.

__

"No, they're not. I've rechecked them several times." He continued to look down, probably hoping I would give up and go away. "George, this is serious."

__

He shook his head again. "It'll be fine, that's why there's a cushion. Sales will go back up soon, it's just a lull." Who was he trying to convince? Me? Or himself?

__

"It's not a lull," I said, pulling the other seat around. I opened the folder back, this time flipping to a graph I had made showing sales since the shop had reopened. "Sales have been declining for years. People just aren't interested anymore. Look." I pulled out the surveys that were returned. "People have stopped shopping here and aren't planning on returning if things keep going the way they are. They want something new."

__

George didn't say anything, so I continued on.

__

"There haven't been any new products in years. I think if we put one out, people will come back in hoards."

__

Still silence from him. He wasn't even looking at me, just that stupid piece of toast that had come uncovered when we moved the folder around.

__

Months of disappointments and weeks of frustration flared up in me. "Would you look at me? This is your business, your livelihood we're talking about!"

__

"Enough!" he shouted, slamming his fists on the table. "Who gave you the right to send these out?" he asked, picking up a survey and crushing it in his hand. "You were hired to keep the books, not run the business. The moment you knew there was an issue, you should have come to me instead of shoving your nose where it doesn't belong."

__

I'd barely slept for weeks, agonizing over trying to help him fix the shop and keep my job and he was sitting there telling me I had no right to do so? As if his failures weren't going to affect me?

__

"I was hired to fix your mess! Because you have been locking yourself in here instead of running your business! Have you seen how empty the shop is all day? I've been working for you for nearly a month and this is only the second time I've seen you, both times were me coming up here to you. If you would take your head out of your arse for a minute, you would see how much this affects everyone else. You have employees who you should be looking out for, your family who put so much time and effort into trying to keep this place afloat. If you don't do something and do it soon, you're going to be letting them down. And worst of all, you'll be letting Fred down if the doors close for good."

__

I had never seen George angry. I truly never thought that that emotion could exist in him, at least not to the extent I saw on his face now.

__

"Get out," he said between gritted teeth, "Get out and don't come back. You're fired."

__

I probably looked fairly stupid for a moment as I stared at him, stunned. After everything I had done, he was firing me. He didn't even really know the extent of what I had done because he hadn't bothered to see for himself.

__

"Fine," I said, "Here are your keys." I sat them on the table, scooted the chair back, and left. Part of me wanted to stay and scream. Make him realize that he was throwing his life's work in the trash. But I was tired. For once, I realized that I wasn't going to be appreciated or treated the way I should. He wouldn't listen, no matter what else I offered. So I was done.

__

You can't help someone who won't help themselves.

__


	4. Realizations & Apologies

#### George

Ginny sighed heavily from where she had propped herself up on the desk. When I had asked for her help she had seemed disappointed that Persephone had left, but not overly surprised by it. As if she knew I'd muck it up eventually anyway.

We'd spent the better part of the day going through everything, triple-checking what Persephone had calculated. It was mostly for my own benefit, as Ginny already knew that there was no way Persephone had been wrong.

"How did it get this bad?" I asked, one hand holding my head while the other gripped a piece of parchment. Persephone had managed to comb through years of information in a few weeks and realized what none of us had - the shop was in trouble. Serious trouble.

"Ron's been here the most and he's been juggling his job and life. Our brother had barely got any sleep even though Harry's been given him more time off. And I really wasn't paying attention to this stuff, all I did was make sure there were employees in the shop."

I didn't blame my siblings, they had done more than enough over the last few years. There was only one person to blame for this. "I can't believe I let this happen."

"George," she said softly, causing me to look at her. Her eyes swam with a mix of sympathy and resolve. "You have to stop living like this. I know...I know it's been difficult, but you've shut down and shut everyone out. Sometimes it feels like I've lost two brothers. I'm not telling you that you have to feel okay or happy, especially not to make me or anyone else feel better, but if you want to keep this shop you're going to have to start trying."

She was right of course. I'd locked myself in my loft, barely leaving. I'd avoided friends, most of whom had stopped trying a long time ago. Mum had never given up, but I could see the pain in her eyes every time she looked at me. I'd thought it was because I looked like Fred, but now I wondered if it was because she felt like she lost me too. The knot in my stomach twisted as it sank in that I was very close to losing the thing that my brother loved the most because of my inaction.

"What do I do, Gin?"

She looked back down at everything spread across the single desk and around the impeccably organized office. "For starters? Get Persephone back. You definitely owe her an apology. And maybe a raise, when you can afford it."

#### Persephone

There really wasn't much of a kitchen in my loft. Or a bedroom. It was really just a single room with a couple of appliances, a small table, and a bed. It wasn't much, but I could afford it. For now.

A tap at the window alerted me to a tawny brown owl perched on the pole. He allowed me to take the newspaper and another letter, accepting a treat before taking flight. Dropping the letter in the bin, I opened the Daily Prophet, combing through the classified ads and feeling slightly hopeless.

Ingredient Collector? Potion Tester? Owl Post Caretaker? I couldn't imagine myself doing any of those, though that could just be a result of not sleeping well.

There were maybe three months' worth of savings left, so my job hunt wasn't dire quite yet. But I doubted I would be able to find a job I actually wanted even with the extra time. Working at the shop had seemed like an incredible opportunity that had turned out to be just another frustrating disappointment.

The Weasley Twins had always been two of my favorite people at Hogwarts even though I barely ever spoke to them. In the early years, most people had assumed they were slackers who wouldn't amount to much later in life. But I could see the genius in their plans and products. Even when their plans went awry, like their age potion during Fourth Year, it was always hilarious. Everything they did required exceptional skill, intelligence, dedication, and bravado.

As much as I admired them I was far too timid to actually try to talk to them often. Including the two conversations I'd had with George recently, I could still count the times we'd spoken on my hands. They were two years my senior in a different House with a seemingly endless pool of friends. Even being in the DA together only made it more difficult to actually talk to them. The last time I'd spoken to either had been the night of the Battle.

Of course, that was years ago in what felt like a different life. I'd changed in those years of the war, being less shy, while simultaneously becoming more of a recluse. It was always home and work for me. Part of leaving the Ministry was because I realized how much I had closed myself off, much as George had. But at least I was still functioning.

It wasn't fair for me to judge how he was handling his grief. Everyone handled it differently and I shouldn't expect him to act how I wanted. I doubted he would have approved much of the life I had led either. But still, it was a miserable way to live and it was painful to see.

As I considered what life would be like as a dragon feeder, there was a light tap at the door. In the months since I moved in, I hadn't told a soul where I lived nor was I expecting any deliveries. Instinctively, I grasped my wand tightly and crouched down and to the side as I cautiously approached the door. Another tap. I raised my wand.

"Who is it?"

A muffled voice replied, "It's George, uh, George Weasley."

The tightness in my chest subsided and I lowered my wand, though I still felt the need to check the peephole before opening the door.

"What are you doing here?" It came out harsher than I meant and I could see him visibly flinch.

He shuffled from one foot to the other, looking at the door over my head. "I wanted to apologize."

Feeling slightly guilty, I let him in and shepherded him to my small table. It was an awkward few moments as we set there, avoiding looking at each other.

"I, uhh, went through the, uhh, logbook with Ginny. You were right. The shop, the shop isn't doing well." He looked at me, probably waiting for me to reply, but I didn't say anything. "So I, uh, wanted to say I'm sorry, for yesterday."

I nodded slightly. "I probably should have been a bit more diplomatic about it. Especially with such a sensitive subject."

"No, no. You- you were right. The shop isn't just doing poorly, it's failing completely. All because of me. Fred would be, he'd be devastated if I lost it." His face was haunted as he spoke and the pain in his eyes tore at my heart.

I reached over the table, putting my hand over his. "It's not too late, George. You can fix it."

He met my gaze, this time with a hint of hope in it. "Not alone, I can't. I was hoping," he took a deep breath, "that you would come back to the shop?"

I withdrew my hand, unsure. While I hadn't necessarily enjoyed the job for the short time I had it, there was so much potential. But I didn't know if I trusted that George was truly ready to commit to fixing the place. I didn't know if he would revert back to the man he was yesterday, leaving me disappointed again.

He grabbed my hand before it was too far. "Please."

"Okay," I said, his eyes lighting up, "But I have some conditions."

"Anything," George nodded.

I bit my lip, hoping I wasn't asking for too much. "First, I need you to be present. If you want help fixing the shop, you actually need to be there. Second, I don't want to be the office manager. I want to be the shopkeeper. No pay raise required, but I want the authority to make decisions. Third, we'll have to release a new product annually at minimum."

George smiled a real smile. And he laughed. "That sounds perfectly reasonable. In fact, it sounds like I have myself a new shopkeeper."

I couldn't help but smile back at him. I was placing my trust and my future in his hands and I hoped I was right to do so. The prospect of actually working with him was exciting. Expect...

"There is one more thing."

He raised his eyebrows in question.

"You need a proper trim. A shave too."


	5. The Stick In The Mud & A Couple Troublemakers

Since the day after the conversation was already supposed to be my day off, I didn't go into the office until two days later. It was a pleasant surprise to find that where there had once been a single desk, there were now two. Before I even sat down, George strolled into the office with a rather large box. He hadn't shaven or gotten a haircut yet, but at least he was here.

"What is that?" I asked, peering in to see what looked to be an assortment of junk.

"This," he said, plopping the box down with a thud, "is all the stuff Fred and I had been working on. Most of them need some work, but they are all rather genius."

He pulled out a purple box that resembled a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "These, well there are all the worst possible flavors you could imagine. Worse even. And this," he said, holding up a muggle whoopee cushion, "will have you farting uncontrollably for an hour."

He continued, pulling out a never-ending stream of joke items. With an infectious smile he told me what each object did - some better than others. The energy he radiated was much like it was in Hogwarts, though there was still a pang in his voice whenever he said his brother's name

As he set down a faux diamond necklace, he looked at me expectantly. "So, what do you think?"

"I think you have a lot of great options to choose from," I said honestly.

He cocked his head. "What do you mean 'you'? We're doing this together, aren't we?"

I was taken aback. Did he really want my help? I didn't have much experience using pranks, let alone producing them. "Really?"

"Didn't you want to make more decisions? Well, here's your first one. Which one of these amazing ideas will save my shop from financial ruin and keep you happily employed?" He gestured grandly to the laid out projects.

I looked carefully at our options, contemplating which one would garner the most attention and therefore the most sales.

"Well?" He asked.

I waved him off. "Shush. I'm thinking."

Most were great products, but individually none would be able to bring in quite the attention we needed. But maybe a set would. I started picking out items with a similar theme: muggle inspired. The whoopee cushion, a shocking quill, self-tying trip laces, a fake spider, and a wizard's guide to the best jokes and insults.

"A joke box?" George asked, looking over the items.

"One item wouldn't be big enough for what we need. By creating a collection of sorts, we can do a big marketing campaign for it and bring in more money per sale. We want a lot of fanfare, a lot of interest."

George looked unsure. "It's gonna take more time than I was planning. Some of these things don't work properly yet, and then we have to mass produce them plus come up with a design for the box..." he said, more to himself than me.

"Then we're wasting time thinking about it! If we start now, do you think we can have it ready by mid-December?"

He nodded. "If we really push it, maybe even early December. It'll be a load of work but, if so recall correctly, you have a bit of experience with this kind of stuff."

I smiled widely, excited. "Which one should I test first?"

George was right, it was a lot of work. But, it was a lot of fun work. I was a little too enthusiastic to try everything. Some of them didn't work right, like the whoopee cushion. It didn't make you fart for an hour, it made you vomit instead. Which, while hilarious for George to watch, wasn't the intention of the product and needed to be fixed. It took some trial and error, but eventually, we got it right.

Within a few days and many extra hours, we had managed to get all the products working perfectly and I had added too and edited the joke book. It had all been going smoothly.

Then we got stuck on figuring out a name and design for the box. Any time either of us mentioned an idea, it was dismissed pretty quickly. Not because the names or designs were bad, but because they didn't feel quite right. It got so bad, that we decided to put it on the back burner and instead focused on mass producing the items.

"So how many should we actually make?" I asked.

He contemplated for a moment, scrunching his face that was still unshaven. "A hundred?"

"A hundred. That sounds good for now until we have an idea how interested people will actually be interested. Once we start marketing, we can make more if needed."

George did something he had been doing a lot recently, smile. "You know, I never would have expected you to be as fun as you are."

"What?"

He held up his hands as if surrendering. "It's not a bad thing! I'm just saying, you know, you seemed a little...uh, conventional?"

I laughed, "Is that a nice way of saying you thought I was boring?"

He shook his head, laughing as well. "No, not boring. Just not one to partake in, uh, pranks and whatnot. You know, other than, uh, the DA, I don't think I ever heard of you doing anything that could get you in trouble and I only ever saw you in the library. I thought that you were a lot like, well, like Hermione."

"I think it's more unbelievable that you were ever in the library." Had I ever seen George in the library? "Those early years of Hogwarts, yeah, I was a bit of a stick in the mud. Though I definitely got detention a couple times with Snape, thanks to Sarah. Things changed after you left, though. I got myself in quite a bit of trouble that last year. Remember those fun little Glue Bombs I had at the battle? You and Fred inspired those."

He laughed. "Now, Sarah I can absolutely see being chaotic. You two were practically opposites." Looking back down at the parchment he'd be writing on, his smile weakened. "I was sorry to hear about her."

My own smile faltered. "Yeah. I was too." I tried to shake the darker thoughts from my head. "But yeah, in a lot of ways we were opposite. For example she thought that you and Fred, while funny, were just a couple slackers for the longest time. I don't think it was till the two of you left in your blaze of glory that she truly appreciated the brains it took. That swamp? Bloody brilliant. Flitwick was so proud he didn't shut up about it for the rest of the year. I knew from the beginning that the two of you were more than a couple troublemakers."

His face morphed into a wicked smirk. "More than a couple of troublemakers, eh? You know, if you were in love with me, you could just say so."

"Oy! Shove off!" I yelled, throwing a non-charmed whoopee cushion at his head that he easily ducked. I tried to hide my smile and failed terribly. "Thanks for such a touching moment!"


	6. Fred's Fantastic Funbox

I had an idea. Possibly very good. Possibly very bad. I wasn't really sure. But, I had an idea and I couldn't ignore it. Luckily, I had the day off and, since this idea woke me up early, I headed to see the person who could help.

Harry answered the door, blurry-eyed, and with a cup of coffee. It had been a while since we had seen each other, but recognition flashed across his face. "Oh, uh, good morning, Persephone."

"Mornin' Harry. Is, uh, is Ginny home?"

"Um, yeah, one moment. Hey Gin? It's for you!"

Harry gestured for me to come in, Ginny came bounding down the stairs behind him. She was wearing her Quidditch robes for the Holyhead Harpies.

Her face morphed into terror as she saw me. "What did he do now?"

"Oh no! Nothing," I laughed. "He has been on his best behavior, I swear. I actually came to ask for a favor."

Ginny raised her eyebrow quizzically as I explained what I needed, but agreed to help nonetheless. "Can I ask what it is for?" she asked as she pulled out a rare solo photograph of Fred.

I shook my head. "Not yet. I want George to see it first and, if it goes well, we'll go from there. Honestly, I'm a little scared to show him, but I can't let it go." I looked down at the photo and saw an issue with the picture. "Umm, Ginny, I think this is George."

She scrunched up her face as she studied the photo, before turning it over. George Weasley was written on the back. "Wow, yeah, you're right. Here," she pulled out another, nearly identical photo, "this is the one." She flipped it over where it had Fred's name written. "Mum couldn't even tell them apart half the time."

With a rushed goodbye and thanks to her and a confused Harry, I bounded out of their home and Apparated to my own, tiny apartment. And there I worked for several hours trying to find the best way to incorporate Fred's photo into the design. It wasn't until the very late hours of the same night that I was happy with what I had created, thinking it would do justice to Fred and his memory. Hopefully, George would see it the same way.

After another sleepless night, I found myself nervously standing on the doorstep of George's loft again. It took a single knock for the door to open. Only the man who greeted me looked vastly different from the one I had seen a couple of days prior.

"You got a haircut," I stated dumbly.

"And I shaved," he said, rubbing his now bare chin.

He looked like the George I remembered from six years before, the one who had given the metaphorical middle finger to Umbridge as he rode out on his broomstick with his brother in an array of fireworks. If it weren't for his missing ear, he'd be nearly identical to his eighteen year old self. "You alright there, Persephone?"

"Oh, um, yeah. Sorry, it was just a shock to see you not look like a hermit."

"Dazzled you, did I? Can't say I blame you, I am a handsome bloke," he said with a cocky grin.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him, my heart was racing because of how nervous I was and nothing more. His apartment smelled of citrus and all the cobwebs had vanished. There even seemed to be more light as I sat down at his table in the kitchen. The single piece of toast I had come to despise had been replaced by a half eaten plate of sausage and egg.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company," he started, sitting back down in front of his plate, "But aren't you supposed to be relaxing on a day off?"

"Technically, yes, but, I, um, I had an idea for the, um, for the box, and I wanted to show you." I put the wrapped box on the table, fingers drumming against it.

He excitedly reached for it, but I pulled it just out of reach. He shot me a questioning look.

"Before you look at it, I, um, I need you to remember that this, this isn't something we have to do. This is only a suggestion. If you don't like it, I'll just, I'll just drop it. Okay? It is totally up to you."

"Okay," he said slowly. I reluctantly pushed the box towards him, biting my finger as he unwrapped it. Seconds felt like hours as I watched him take in the whole design. On the top, Fred smiled and waved before bending over in laughter. In gold was written "Fred's Fantastic Funbox" with an all purple backdrop. He stared at his brother and my heart sank, afraid I had just undone all the work we had accomplished recently. "Where did you get the picture?"

"Ginny gave it to me, but she had no idea what I was going to use it for. No idea at all. It was all me, please don't be upset with her. She just did me a favour."

"It's- it it's, just- I -" There were tears forming in his eyes.

I braced for the backlash. To be fired. To be kicked out. To lose all the progress George and I had made.

"I love it." Before I could feel the impact of his words, George had come around the table and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug. "It's amazing. Thank you." He pulled back, face stained with tears, but still with a smile on the face. "Why are you crying?" he asked as he ran his thumb across my cheek where my own tears had began to fall

"Relief. I was worried you wouldn't like it. Or worse."

He embraced me again, resting his chin on my head. "I love it. I really do. You have no idea how much it means to me. Honestly, Fred would have created a similar design for himself. The chap thought quite highly of himself."

I laughed into his chest, happy that I hadn't rebroken him. We stayed that way for a moment or two longer, before I pulled away, wiping my wet face with the sleeve of my sweater. "So, are you ready to get started?"

"Do you have no life, woman?" He laughed. "It's your day off, you already spent your other day off working, apparently. Do you Ravenclaws ever have any fun?"

"Work is fun, George. At least, my work is."

He rolled his eyes. "You're only saying that because I'm your boss. But fine, you've convinced me. We'll get started, but only if you agree to take a vacation after all this is finished."

The day flew by quickly and we were actually able to complete all the boxes we needed and had even put a few together to test how we wanted the products to sit. "Bollocks," George shouted, "What time is it?"

I stared at my watch until my brain understood the numbers. "A quarter till six."

He got up hurriedly, running his hand through his short hair. "I'm late. I was supposed to be at the Burrow fifteen minutes ago. Mum's gonna kill me. We're having a family dinner." He fumbled around, putting on his coat and scarf before checking his reflection in the mirror on the door. Just as suddenly as he had gotten up, he froze and spun to face me. "Come with me."

"What?" I asked.

"Come with me!"

"To your family dinner?"

"Yes! Mum can't be mad at me if I bring a guest, she'll be too busy fussing over you."

"I don't know George, I don't like imposing on other people."

"It's not imposing, Mum loves fussing over people. That's why she had seven of us. The woman is truly obsessed. Besides, Mum will talk my ear off if you don't go. I've only got one ear left and you wouldn't want me to be some earless fool, would you? Besides, we can show everyone what we've been working on."

"Everyone?"

"Well not everyone, Charlie is in Romania, and Bill and Fleur took the girls to visit Fleur's family. It's really just us famous ones and Percy." He noticed that I didn't look convinced and got on his knees. "Please?"

I sighed. "Fine, but we've got to stop by my flat first."


	7. Working For The Weasleys

"What kind of person keeps a stash of gifts in their apartment?" George questioned as we arrived in front of what I could only assume to be the Burrow.

"A prepared one!"

He shook his head. "The chocolates I get, everyone loves chocolates. But the muggle quills? What witch has a load of those lying about?"

"They're called pens, George. And they happen to be a lot less hassle than ink pots and quills, I'm still amazed that we haven't accepted such useful items into our daily lives. In fact, we could probably use these at the office."

He didn't seem convinced, but any reply was cut off by his sister who had stepped out of the front door. "George! 'Bout time you got here! Mum's upset and is holding dinner hostage. Ron's having a- oh, hi Persephone."

I gave a little wave. "Hey, Ginny."

Ginny gave her brother an exasperated look as if she knew exactly why he had brought me along. She said nothing as we followed her inside the unstable looking building. Inside, we were greeted by an overly cluttered, but homey kitchen where a red-haired woman waved her wand around several different pots and pans.

"Is it George? George Gideon Weasley! Do you have any sense of punctuality? Your family has been waiting for you!" She turned around, and the anger that had been on her face seemed to melt away. "You cut your hair." She ran a hand over his hair with tears in her eyes.

"Mum," he said tenderly, "you shouldn't cry in front of guests." She looked around until her tearful eyes landed on me, quickly wiping them. "This is Persephone, she's the new shopkeeper. Also the reason I'm late. She's been working me to the bone!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't see you there!" She sniffled a little as she greeted me.

"I should be apologizing to you, Mrs. Weasley. I'm afraid George is right. I am the reason he is late. But hopefully, a box of chocolate will make it up to you."

"How thoughtful! Thank you, my dear. It's wonderful to finally meet you. Well, come, come. We're eating in the backyard tonight."

She had Ginny lead us out to where I could see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Percy, and another very familiar face sitting at a long table. "Arthur!" I shouted happily, leaving George behind to greet my old boss.

"Persephone!" He responded in kind, getting up from the table to hug me. "I heard you got the job!"

"I did, yes! Thank you for letting me know about it, it's been quite an experience. Oh, and these are for you. I thought you might be running low."

He happily took the pens and ushered me to take the seat next to him with a very confused George following behind. Mrs. Weasley came out with several plates floating behind her. She swished her wand and all the ones holding food landed neatly on the table, while the empty plates set themselves in front of each occupied chair.

She encouraged everyone to fill their plates and chatter filled the air as everyone piled mounds of it onto their plate. Percy sat across from me and we exchanged a few pleasantries. I hadn't really worked with Percy, but we saw each other from time to time during my tenure within the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects at the Ministry.

He mentioned how Mafalda Hopkirk's office had once again "mysteriously" housed a blizzard and I couldn't help but laugh at the memory of her red faced tantrum she had during previous office blizzards. As I looked over to George, he gave me a questioning look.

"What?" I asked.

"I knew you worked at the Ministry, but I never realized you worked with...my family." He seemed weirded out by the thought.

"I didn't just work with them," I said.

George had a look of terror. "You didn't date Percy, did you?"

I laughed, "No, no, no. I worked for your dad until he moved back to Muggle Artifacts. He was the one who hired me."

"If it hadn't been for McLaggen, I think I would have had a fair shot, though," Percy said.

I shifted slightly in my seat. "But, um, look at you now! You and Audrey make the cutest couple. Are you planning on popping the question soon?" He went into great detail about the ring he had bought and how he was planning on proposing on Christmas. He was genuinely in love and I mentioned a few things I thought Audrey would appreciate. After all, she had been one of my dormmates at Hogwarts.

"You know, McLaggen actually came by my office the other day, asking if there were any openings. Which, for him, there certainly aren't," Arthur said, interrupting Percy mid-sentence.

"Did he?" I asked politely, poking at the carrots on my plate.

"Yes, it was quite strange."

"Whad's in de box," Ron interrupted, food still crammed into his mouth and nose pointing in my direction.

"Ronald," Hermione and Mrs. Weasley scolded in union.

George had pulled out our box, which we had brought wrapped and shrunk it to fit in his pocket. "This, dear brother, is what Perespone and I have been working on for the past couple of weeks. A new product. Or products, I should say."

"You've made something new?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice soft in shock.

He nodded proudly. "Not entirely new. Fred and I had been working on them, but now we've finished them and made a new collection. Or Persephone did, really. It was all her idea. She even designed the box and named it." George looked down at me, pride gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's see it, then!" Ron said.

"Hold on, Ronikins. I think Mum should be the one to open it." He got up from his seat to walk to where his mum had been sitting, placing the wrapped box in front of her.

She looked a little taken aback that he wanted her to open it, probably remembering some not so pleasant memories of the twins' products, but, as he placed a hand on her shoulder, she relaxed and unwrapped the box.

Her reaction to the box was much like George's had been, just much more tearful. She was practically sobbing as she said how much she loved it and how thoughtful it was. She got up from her seat and embraced George.

"It wasn't me, Mum. It was all Persephone, she surprised me with it this morning."

Within the blink of an eye, Mrs. Weasley had made her way around the table and thrown her arms around my neck. "Oh it's beautiful. Thank you, dear."


	8. Mrs. Weasley's Apprecation

The rest of dinner was littered with conversation surrounding the box. We didn't tell anyone what any of the products did, instead leaving them to guess and hopefully experiment on their own. Harry and Hermione were able to convince Ron to try out the whoopee cushion because it was just a "simple muggle prank". When everyone realized he had fallen victim to uncontrollable flatulence, no one could stop laughing.

As dinner ended, everyone began to head inside, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley who was picking everything up. "Are you coming?" George asked over his shoulder.

"In a minute, I'm going to help your mum." He started to turn back to the yard, but I stopped him. "Go spend time with everyone else, we'll be in shortly."

He hesitated a moment before heading inside the open, sending me one last look before shutting the door behind him. "What did you need help with, Mrs. Weasley?"

"How kind of you to offer dear! Could you put the chairs and tables into the barn?"

We worked quickly as a team, having sent the dishes to wash themselves and putting everything else in its proper place. Mrs. Weasley seemed rather pleased, smiling at the now empty spot where we had just eaten dinner. "You know," she started, "Arthur has spoken very highly of you for the past few years, he was always sad when you turned him down to move to his department. Said you were the best hire he'd ever made." Her eyes turned to me, still watery from earlier.

"He was surprised that you left the Ministry, but when Ginny told me about the office manager post, we knew it was meant to be. Especially you asking him not to give any recommendation and wanting to get it on your own merit." Her smile was soft. "It was a nice thought, having someone we could trust to look after the shop. But it was such a wonderful surprise to see that you've been looking after George, as well."

Tears flowed freely down her face, but her smile stayed. "He hasn't been himself since Fred died. Not that anyone expected him to be, but it's been a hard few years watching him. I was afraid I had lost him too. But tonight? He's...he's George. He was smiling and laughing and talking more than he has since. I don't know how you did it, but you brought my son back."

"I- Mrs. Weasley, I - I really didn't do anything."

She tilted her head, her smile widening. "No dear, you did." She cupped my face in a way that my own mother had done so often. "Arthur was right, you were his best hire. I hope you come by more often, even without George. It's always nice to have more girls in the house and I'm sure Arthur would love it."

I had no response for her other than a hug, as I fought back tears of my own.

"Come now, dear. Let's head inside and see what kind of mischief the boys have gotten into."

Inside, sitting in presumably the family room, Harry and Ron had been testing the products with Hermione and Ginny enjoying the effects and Arthur and Percy in seemingly deep conversation. George was leaning against the wall watching everything unfold, a wide smile on his face. The light from the fireplace danced across his face, highlighting the freckles that ran across his nose and reflecting in his warm brown eyes.

As if he felt the weight of my stare, his eyes met my own. And, for the briefest moment, it felt as if his smile was only for me. I looked away, joining Hermione and Ginny on the couch.

"It's a brilliant collection, Persephone," Hermione said with a devilish smile. She showed us the faux spider she had apparently swiped from the box without anyone noticing. "I think I'll actually get a lot of use out of this one." She held it in her open palm and circled her wand above it. It started to twitch before it stretched out its legs and crawled about on her hand. With a wicked grin on her face, she levitated the faux spider over to where the boys were sitting trying to figure out the wand and let it land softly on Ron's shoulder. What followed was absolutely beautiful.

Ron screamed frantically. His voice grew high and shrill and he swatted it off his shoulder. He scrambled away from where it landed, ending up in a red faced Harry's lap before letting out a rather loud fart. Laughter filled the room at poor Ron's expense.

As everyone calmed down, I got to chatting with the girls. I wouldn't say we were friends at school, but we got along well. I hadn't spoken to many people since leaving the Ministry. Even at the Ministry, I tended to keep to myself.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Hermione asked as the three of us watched Harry try to figure out the wand.

"Just, um, closing the shop. Gotta give the assistants some time with family, ya know? Then I'm a, I'm gonna go see my parents."

George put Harry out of his misery and took the wand from him, twirling it until it turned into a bouquet of flowers. He extended the bouquet to me, before giving an extravagant bow.

"Flowers for m'lady?"


	9. Old Friends

_**Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Presents:  
Fred's Fantastic Funbox** _

_Feeling stuck in the stocks?_

_Like the end of an ox?_

_Want to be knocked off your socks?_

_Try Fred's Fantastic Funbox!_

_Six NEW products in the convenience of one box._

_Pre-Order yours today!_

The ad wasn't nearly as impressive as some of Fred and George's older ones, but it got the point across well enough. I could only hope that the firework display we sent to Hogwarts would be impressive enough to garner attention. I put down the Prophet, hoping I could convince myself to eat the eggs I had made, but my stomach wasn't having it.

George and I had worked so hard on our products, but if we didn't get enough interest with our ad, it would have been all for nothing. I sighed as I dumped my eggs in the bin. It was still a little early for work and I didn't want to face the reality of the day sooner than necessary, so I walked.

It was usual London weather, far too cold and far too damp. Diagon Alley was different than it had been in my youth. Many of its shops had been affected during the war and it had left several of the storefronts empty in the years following. With Ministry efforts, new shops now stood in many of their places, but there were still a few holes that reminded everyone of years past.

As I approached the joke shop, a small crowd gathered outside the windows and peering inside. And in the group was a familiar face.

"Persephone!" Dean Thomas stood at the edge of the crowd, wearing a broad smile and maroon scarf on top of his dress robes.

"Hi! What are you doing here?" I asked as he helped close the distance between us. A moment of awkwardness ensued as I held out my hand and he held out his arms.

"I saw the ad, thought I'd drop by to pre-order," he said as he shook my hand.

"There was a pre-order form under the ad you could have owled in."

He shrugged slightly. "I may have also heard a rumor or two that you were working here."

The no-nonsense Ravenclaw working for a nonsense-only Gryffindor was probably unusual. I shouldn't be surprised people would talk.

"So you left the Ministry," he stated. "I'm sure McLaggen didn't like that."

"Probably not." I didn't know for sure, but it didn't really matter. "It was great to see you, Dean, but I gotta get in. I'll see you around, okay?"

Dean's smile dropped a little but sent me off with a promise to send me an owl soon. I rushed off to the back staircase, bounding up its steps, and opening the door to the loft.

"George!"

No answer. I slipped inside and checked his usual seat in the kitchen only to find it empty. Pondering whether I should continue to invade my boss's privacy or go back down to face the crowd at the front door, the latter won out quite easily. Down the short hallway, I found his bedroom also empty. Wondering if he had already made it inside the shop, I turned to exit the room.

Instead of finding an empty doorway, I slammed straight into a naked chest.

Stumbling over myself, I nearly fell, but George kept me standing upright. I took a moment - or three - to take in the picture of him standing there with only a white towel to cover his lower half. He looked good. Really good. Lean, but the way his biceps flexed as he held on to me suggested there was plenty of strength.

After an embarrassingly long time, I finally looked up at his face.

"Enjoying the show?"

 _Yes._ "I'm gonna go wait in the kitchen," I mumbled before scurrying away. I definitely had been enjoying the show. A few minutes passed before he strolled through the doorway and I had to avert my eyes quickly.

He'd always been attractive, but seeing him freshly showered, wet hair, and a confident smile made me think things I should not be thinking about my boss. My body was still tingling from earlier and something told me that he would not let it be forgotten.

His chair scratched over the floor and as he sat down across from me. My fingernails became very interesting at the moment. Maybe I should get a manicure.

"Guess it's a good thing you didn't come half an hour earlier when I was about to get in. Or maybe not, you'd have gotten to see a lot more," he implied. "Is there a reason you interrupted my shower?"

"There's a crowd downstairs, and, if you can believe it, I was trying to avoid having an awkward conversation." I continued to examine my nails, promising myself to visit a salon on my next day off.

"A crowd?"

"Yeah, it seems like people saw the ad."

"Do you think people sent in pre-orders already?"

I looked up at him, our earlier entanglement no longer mattering. "Maybe. They'd be dropped off in the office."

George led us out of his loft and through the now open and lively shop. He stopped briefly to tell Bini to come get them if he needed any help before heading up to the office. Inside was a tall, wobbly tower of mail sitting on top of my desk. An owl swooped in to add another envelope to the pile.

Each letter contained a pre-order, some ordering multiple boxes. We easily had over a hundred orders, meaning we would need to make more boxes. And by the volume of new orders coming in, at least a couple hundred more. Less than an hour after opening, Bini came up and borrowed George for help on the floor. I stayed to set up a system to track purchases, creating labels for each order and filing them alphabetically.

Satisfied with my system, I went to help in the front of the shop. The shop was almost as busy as it had been when it first opened, an incredible feat considering school was in session now. But it seemed that nostalgia and intrigue had called to the inner child in a lot of witches and wizards. Since I didn't have as much practical experience with our inventory, I stayed at the register while the boys worked the floor. It was incredible watching George interact with people, many of whom were old pals of his, and I found myself being more social than I had in years. People I'd been friends with or had known me at Hogwarts were surprised but happy to find me behind the counter.

"I can't believe you're working here," Cho said as she paid for a large number of self-inking quills and a box of fireworks. "But it explains why George finally came out with something new."

I smiled at my old dorm mate. "It's actually been great. I needed a little fun in my life. How's the Home?"

Her smile dropped a little. "We're doing okay, but the Ministry is considering cutting our funding. They think that almost everyone's doing fine now. But they don't see that there's still a lot of families suffering." Cho had been a strong advocate for children who had suffered during the war, those on both sides. Many children were left with one or no parents either due to death or imprisonment and it had been difficult to find caretakers financially capable of taking care of those who were on the other side. So, Cho, who was barely an adult herself, took them in and started Witches and Wizards Home for Change, a charity that provided housing, school supplies, meals, and even mental health services to those who needed it, regardless of who they were.

It had caused a lot of controversy early on, but after Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy openly voiced their support, everyone seemed to be okay with it. Several children who had been in the home and graduated Hogwarts had gone on to do well as business owners, Ministry employees, etc. But there was still a lot more that needed to be helped.

"How much will you be losing?" I asked.

"Too much."

"I haven't heard anything about this. Does Kingsley know?"

She nodded. "He does, but he can only do so much and he already has a lot on his plate. The Daily Prophet only did a small article about it, and so far no one really seems to care. I don't know how we're going to survive without the funding."

Cho looked devastated at the thought of losing her life's work and as she left, I wished I knew a way to help.


	10. Tea With Lee

It had been a hectic few days. The store was busy and even with our wonderful clerks taking on more hours, George and I were needed on the floor. Orders continued to come in and easily quadrupled our original estimate. George had even gotten a few requests for interviews. It seemed people weren't only interested in our products, but the man behind them.

George only accepted one. One of his friends from Hogwarts had gotten their own radio show a couple of years ago, Tea With Lee. They hadn't spoken much since the war and George wanted to rekindle their old friendship.

"You'll have to tell me if I end up sounding like an imbecile. I'm afraid everyone else will be too forgiving," he told me as we closed the shop the night before his interview.

I shook my head. "It's my first morning off in a week, I have a lot of errands to run."

His expression fell slightly until it turned into an overly exaggerated pout. "You have to tune in, Seph! You're the only person I can trust!"

"My fridge is empty, I need groceries!"

He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him directly. "I am much more important than food." His face was flat and serious for a moment, but broke into a wide grin as I rolled my eyes.

It wasn't really fair. His smile was infectious and I caved quicker than I'd care to admit.

The following morning, I made myself a proper English Breakfast as I waited for the interview. I hadn't heard Lee's show before, or any wizarding radio really. At least not since Potterwatch.

"Welcome back ladies and gents to Tea with Lee. I hope everyone is having as wonderful of a morning as I am since I have one of my best friends sitting across from me today - Mr. George Weasley! How are ya, mate?"

Lee had always been a natural on a microphone and George matched his energy as they spoke. They chatted a bit before mentioning our new products. George refused to give away any secrets about the products, only mentioning that he and Fred had been working on them - hence the name.

"That's truly beautiful, I'm sure he'd love it too. What got you to finish and release them?"

"My new shopkeeper, Persephone Dankworth. She kinda kicked my arse about it."

"Persephone Dankworth? The Ravenclaw? Wasn't she -"

"Boring? I thought so, too. But she tested every product, multiple times. She came up with the name and design. She's definitely a Ravenclaw, the office is far more organized and functional than it ever has been, but she's incredible. Incredible to work with."

"That wasn't what I was going to say-"

George cut him off again, "She's actually tuned in right now."

Lee laughed. "I see. Hi Persephone!"

I couldn't help but smile as I listened to the interview winding down. George even mentioned Cho's funding issues, encouraging people to send letters to Wizengamot and promised to donate a Sickle for every Fred's Fantastic Funbox sold. He'd listened to my worries over the Home and it was a sweet surprise for him to offer his support to a worthy cause.

After the show, I spent a couple of hours hunting down Christmas presents. I was grateful that I had cheap rent and some savings leftover as I ended up buying presents for more people than I had in many years. Somehow I managed to track down presents for all the people in my life. George's were my favorite.

After sending the gifts to my apartment, I thought it'd be nice to grab lunch at the Leaky Cauldron before heading to work. It was a reward for myself. As I waited for Tom, however, my day turned sour.

"Hello, Persephone," Cormac's voice purred in my ear.

I flinched away, finding him standing right behind where I had been. My breakfast threatened to reappear as he looked at me. I couldn't keep eye contact long, it hurt too much. "What do you want?" The question didn't come out with as much venom as I had wanted.

He looked unfazed as he leaned against the counter. "I just came for lunch, but what a beautiful surprise to run into you." He seemed to wait for a response but was met by a cold silence. "I was actually thinking about you, then I heard that Weasley on the radio, and now here you are. The universe must be sending us signs."

"Or the universe has a dark sense of humor."

He chuckled, but it didn't feel genuine. "I miss our banter. I actually really miss you."

I didn't try to hide my distaste as I glared up at him. "And how does Daphne feel about that?"

"She doesn't matter," he said as he reached out to touch my face.

I blocked his hand. "She seemed to matter plenty to you a few months ago. Or was she just one of many?"

He shrugged and I could taste the acid at the back of my throat. "You know she meant nothing. She's nothing. You're the only girl that matters to me."

"You have a really fucking funny way of showing it."

"Come on, love. I made a mistake. Come back home and we can fix this."

I laughed harshly. "I have absolutely no interest in ever getting back together with you. I'd rather be a Bludger's target practice."

His laid back demeanor went rigid at the rejection. "Is it because of Weasley?"

"No, you dense arsehole."

He stepped closer, trying and failing to be intimidating. "I've had enough of those red-headed freaks. They always want what is mine."

Tom dropped off my lunch at that moment and rushed off to help someone else. "I am not yours. I am not property that can be owned or stolen. Who I choose to date or spend my time with is my decision, not yours." I grabbed the bag far more aggressively than necessary. "And his name is George."


	11. A Dinner Party & A Goal Post

I stormed out of the Leaky Cauldron and Apparated outside the shop. I went straight to the office, avoiding human contact along the way. I couldn't risk snapping at a customer today. There were piles of pre-orders and an ever growing list with everyone's info.

A lot needed to be done and I needed a distraction.

It worked, maybe too well as I didn't even notice when George came in. Not until he was waving his hand right in front of my face. "Earth to Seph. Hello?"

I blinked up at him. "Yeah?"

"I asked if you heard the show today."

I nodded, looking back at the paperwork in front of me.

"And?"

I scribbled a couple of things down. "It was fine." Four hundred seventy six orders so far. Mostly from Hogwarts students. How much would it cost to send these all out at the same time? Do we even have access to enough owls?

"Fine?" George asked, putting his hand on top of my parchment, blocking out the numbers. "Did I say something wrong? If it's about the donation, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I thought it would be a nice surprise." He looked sincerely concerned as he sat at the edge of my desk.

"No, George," I said, covering his hand. "You were wonderful, I'm so happy you're doing the donation. I'm sorry, I - I ran into someone and it put me in a terrible mood."

"McLaggen?" He asked. He must have seen the confusion on my face and added, "I noticed you got uncomfortable whenever his name was mentioned at dinner the other night. And I remember the night of the battle, that you, um, were with him. Figured there might be some history there."

I confirmed with a small nod, leaning back in my chair and adjusting the back of my collar that had rolled down. "We had gotten close in the last month of the war. We were inseparable, even ended up working together. Moved in together not long after that. It wasn't perfect, but we were partners. At least we were until I caught him naked on our couch wrapped around another woman."

"The arse cheated on you?"

"Yeah. I hadn't even talked to him since then. I quit my job the next day, moved out of our apartment, ignored all of the letters he sent me. Seeing him today just...it just brought back some painful memories."

George sympathized. He told me I was better off without him and that I deserved much better, all the usual things someone says to a person after a nasty breakup. He was right, but it didn't soften the pain of someone you loved and trusted betraying you in the home you had built together.

Cormac and I didn't have a great relationship. I was distant and uninterested in doing things he enjoyed. He wasn't a good listener and cared more about the image we gave the public than the actual goings on behind closed doors. We should have either worked on our problems or ended our relationship long before. But he chose the easy way out.

"I appreciate the support, but I really just need to distract myself for a bit. Can we just focus on work for a bit? We only have a few more days before the release, anyway."

Hours passed as we added piles and piles of the joke items only to have them dwindle as we assembled the boxes. It was nearly midnight before we finally stopped.

Stretching out in my chair, I admired the huge stacks of Fred's Fantastic Funboxes we'd compiled. The sound of clinking glass caught my attention as George pulled out something from his desk.

It was a large bottle of Firewhiskey and a couple of glasses. He said nothing as he poured out a small amount into one and slid it across to me. There was something etched on the side. I turned it to find the Gryffindor House Crest.

"Really?" I asked, holding up the cup to him.

He smiled as he poured himself a shot, amused at my feigned distaste. "A toast," he said, raising his glass, "to you. Without you, none of this would have been possible."

The liquid burned my throat as I gulped it down and I took a moment to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. It had been months since I had a drink.

George looked at me as I set the glass on the table and slid it across to him. I tilted my head towards the bottle and he poured us each another round.

"To us," I said before letting the Firewhiskey slide down my throat again. This time the sensation made its way through my whole body, letting me relax. "You know," I put the glass back on the desk, "he said he missed me? He actually had the nerve to tell me that?"

George responded by pouring another shot.

I held the glass up, about to drink, before I set it down untouched. "The worst part is I don't even think it was because he actually missed me. He seemed more concerned whether or not you and I were dating. Said you Weasleys always want what is his." I nursed my shot, hoping it would help make more sense. "He's comparing our years-long relationship to a Quidditch position and one date he had with Hermione in school. That's how little he actually cares. Over three years - literally fighting in a war for our lives together- to a couple of hours at a dinner party and sitting in front of a damned goal post."

"It's not your fault."

A humorless chuckle escaped my mouth. "Isn't it? I spent years expecting him to change, but I did nothing. I wasn't willing to change or compromise myself. I didn't try to talk about our problems. I didn't leave." It was impossible to keep the tears away and they fell freely down my face. "I could have done a hundred things different. If I had tried harder, maybe...maybe he wouldn't have done it."

"Just because you made bad choices, it doesn't excuse his shitty one." George kneeled beside me. "Maybe you could have done things differently, but you didn't cheat. You didn't force him to do it, either. He made that idiotic decision on his own. So no, it is not your fault."

My sleeve became drenched as I wiped my face. "It hurt. Merlin, it fucking hurt. But, at the same time, it felt like such a huge relief. I wasn't happy. Not for such a long time. I think I was too scared of change, of hurting someone I loved, of being alone. I'm not glad that he did what he did, but..." I trailed off, unsure of how exactly I felt.

"Hey, I get it. I'd love nothing more than to kick his arse right now, but I'm also grateful that his fuckup brought you here. I meant it when I said none of this would be possible without you. You've brought life back to this place. To me. So McLaggen can go fuck himself. He lost out on an incredibly beautiful, intelligent woman."

George's small smile didn't miraculously make everything better, but it did make the burden easier to bear. Part of me wanted to tell him more, tell him everything. I wanted to explain why I stayed. Why I was even ever with him. But I couldn't. I wasn't drunk enough for that conversation just yet.

"Let's get you home, Seph."


	12. In Memory Of Colin Creevey

After another hectic day, George and I were sitting back in our office, nibbling on the dinner he'd bought us. Neither of us had taken a day off that week, we'd been too busy fulfilling another influx of mail orders, trying to keep up with our normal day-to-day tasks, and helping in the shop.

"That's done," I said, straightening the pile of parchment. Our invoices were cleared, paid for, and, with a tap of my wand, organized. It was the last thing I had to do today.

George didn't look up from his letter. It was the same one he'd been looking at for several minutes, despite having a pile of more next to him. "Thanks, Seph. Go ahead home, I'll see you tomorrow." Something in his voice was off.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said, unconvincingly.

Looking at the letter, I could see dark spots where water had fallen. "George, what's wrong?"

He finally looked up, his eyes and nose were red and puffy. He handed over the letter. "It's from Dennis, Dennis Creevey."

_George,_

_I wanted to congratulate you on the new product. Seeing you commemorate your brother inspired me to do something I've been too afraid to do: I went through Colin's old film rolls and got them all developed. Can you believe he had nearly thirty rolls of film? Almost half were from his first year- a great feat considering he was Petrified for half the year._

_It was cathartic to finally go through them all. It gave me a piece back of my brother._

_I've decided to send everyone the photos Colin took of them, but I wanted to send you yours first._

_Thanks,_

_Dennis C._

Something heavy landed with a thud on the desk. It was a sealed envelope that I assumed was full of pictures. "I can't open it," he croaked.

"Would you like me to?" He gave a small nod. Pulling out the stack, it seemed like it must have been at least a hundred pictures. The first third of the photos were of Fred and George during their fourth year, when I was a Second Year. There were a lot of Quidditch pictures. One where George was yelling at the former Gryffindor Captain, Oliver Wood.

Then the pictures made a sudden change to the next year. Their hair was longer and they'd gotten quite a bit taller. More Quidditch. A few around the castle. There was a more natural transition into the following year, when we had the Triwizard Tournament. There was a photo of the twins putting their names in the Goblet, one of them celebrating, followed by another of them growing white hair and beards.

Then there was a photo of me.

Well not of me. It was of the betting booth they had set up during the First Task. But I was there, with Sarah, talking to them. Sarah had dragged me over so she could place her bet on Krum. I'd even been talked into placing my own by the three of them, but on Harry.

It was the first time I'd seen a picture of Sarah in years, all the ones I had had of her were hidden away in my parent's attic. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt George's hand on my shoulder. His curiosity had gotten the best of him and he'd come around to see why I had stopped.

"Oh, Seph, I'm sorry. I didn't think you or Sarah would be in there."

My thumb slid across the image of my giggling friend, taking in the details I'd forgotten. My heart ached at the hole her loss had left. She was my best friend and had been since our second day at Hogwarts. We had been together constantly, even spending most of our holidays together.

"You know, she spent half the Task talking about Fleur? She went on and on about her and how she smelled like roses last time she had passed her in the halls. She didn't bet on her, cause, you know, Krum and all. But she was a very big fan."

George chuckled. "You know Ron asked her to the Yule Ball? His face when he found out that Bill had started dating her was priceless. Couldn't talk to her for the first couple months after he started bringing her over. Fred loved it, teased him constantly. Even asked him if he was going to interrupt the wedding and declare his undying love for her."

The two of us stared down at the photo fondly, letting the good memories wash away some of the grief. It'd been a long time since I had let myself remember more than my failures with Sarah.

"Can't believe Colin actually got a picture of the first time you and I met," he said.

"What?" I laughed. "That wasn't the first time we met."

He stared in confusion. "It wasn't?"

"No! Oh Merlin, you really don't remember, do you? My second day of my first year, I got lost heading back to the Common Room after hours. Came across you and Fred. You walked me back to the tower!" I know I had had a growth spurt between Third and Fourth Year, but had I been so unrecognizable?

Recognition flashed across his face. "You were the little Ravenclaw!" His eyes were wide, as if he'd been told I had a tail. "Wow, I can't believe I never realized that. I mean you looked very different, to be fair, but still."

Rolling my eyes, I put the photo of the four of us aside and continued on. No photos of Quidditch that year, but plenty of Fred and George in the stands or their Common Room. Even one of them before the Ball, both dressed dapperly in dress robes.

The last dozen photos were of their last year. Most of them in the DA. There was the group picture where Sarah had strategically placed us in front of the twins. And then there was another one of me.

"How on earth did he take this one?" I marveled as I stared at the photo of George and I smiling triumphantly at each other, my hand clutching his wrist. It had been the only time George and I had worked together in the DA, when I was struggling to produce a Patronus. Colin had managed to capture the moment right after I produced my first non-corporeal Patronus.

"Blimey, Colin," George said, taking the photo from me. "I didn't even know he had his camera that day."

Colin had managed to capture not one, but two of the handful of times George and I had actively interacted with each other at school. I'd spoken to Fred a few more times after and I'd fought alongside the both of them in the Battle, but otherwise we had barely spoken to each other over the years.

"Did I ever thank you? For helping me that day?"

"Now that you mention it," he said, lifting his eyebrow, "I don't think you ever did. Pretty rude of you, Dankworth."

My eyes rolled again. George Weasley: The Drama Queen. "My apologies, oh great teacher. Please, accept my humble offering of thanks." He let out a snorting laugh as I raised my middle finger at him.


	13. The Morning After

It was impossible to resist nuzzling further into the sheets, they seemed softer and more plentiful. It was incredible that I was ever able to actually leave it. And it smelled like Gingersnaps and coffee. Inhaling deep, a content sigh was impossible to resistance . This was heaven.

Wait.

My sheets were scratchy and cheap.

They smelled like basic detergent.

This wasn't my bed.

Oh Merlin, _this wasn't my bed._

The realization shot me sitting bolt upright. The room was familiar, but my brain couldn't place where I'd seen it. It wasn't too familiar, so at least I hadn't found myself back with Cormac. But whose bed was it? I'd never had a one night stand before, and, while I didn't mind the thought of it, I would still want to actually remember doing it. And, more importantly, who I had done. My eyes adjusted to the darkened room as I attempted to recall the night before.

I had been at work with George. We were organizing all the orders, stocking the shop for the release. I wanted to write thank you notes to some of the larger orders and we had gone up to his loft so he could sign them too.

We drank a bottle of mead.

An entire bottle.

_Fuck._

This was George's loft.

This was George's room.

This was George's bed.

_Fuck._

Did we...?

No, I don't think so. I was still wearing the same sweater and pants and it really didn't feel like I had done anything with anyone.

_Would it be so bad if you had?_

Of course it would. He's my boss!

_Your hot boss._

Shaking the thought from my head, I went in search of him. Tip toeing past the empty washroom and peeking into the living room, I could see him lying on the couch asleep. He laid there peacefully with his chest rising rhythmically. His mouth was slightly open and it seemed like there was a bit of drool on his chin.

His head turned, revealing the disfigured remains of his left ear. I saw it nearly every day. But it was a shock compared to his almost child-like slumber. A bitter reminder of the innocence we had all lost. A reminder of why today was important for the two of us.

My back ached as I silently creeped out the front door, doing my best to open and shut it as quietly as possible. It was still dark outside and it was all too tempting to go back to the bed I had crawled out of. With a quick pop home to clean up and change, I got back to work.

There were a lot of packages, too many to deliver each one by owl. Only those going to private homes or businesses would be sent via owl service, the rest would be a bit more...magical.

We had planned a special breakfast fireworks display for Hogwarts which would send each package to the right student. No classes would be interrupted on a Saturday and the kids would hopefully enjoy the theatrics. It was loud, obnoxiously bright, and, most importantly McGonagall approved.

The Headmistress had been very supportive of us, she had written each of us a letter after his interview telling us how proud and excited she and the other professors were. She had been the one to give us the idea for the display and had been all too eager to participate. She'd made it mandatory for any student who had purchased a box to attend breakfast that morning so that she could have a 'discussion' about the rules. I'd made sure to send Argus a bottle of Scotch and a box of cat treats in a presumptive apology.

It would be spectacular to see, but I had other things to attend to. Stopping by Cho's to give her our most recent donation for the home, ensuring the owls were sent out on time, picking up coffee and pastries for the team, conforming lunch delivery, and double checking everything in the store was ready for opening.

Twenty minutes before opening George slipped in the store past the mob that had formed at the entrance. He was beaming as he came in, greeting Bini, Amber, and Naenia with enthusiasm. On seeing me, he jokingly chastised me for not waking him up before I left in the morning. I could see the clerks exchanging curious glances with raised brows. I mentioned him sleeping on the couch during my quick apology and thanked him for letting me crash. "I would have been fine on the couch, you know."

"So you could tell Mum and have her yell at me for being a poor host? I think not." He looked around and began to nearly bounce in joy. "I can't believe it. Today's the day!" In a flash he picked me up and spun me around.

"George!" I squealed, clinging on tightly at the fear of him accidentally letting me go. But he gently put me down, leaving us both giggling like children.

Before we opened for the day, he thanked the team for all they'd done recently and for staying with him before. A couple jokes later and the doors opened. Within minutes the display was empty and Bini was quick to replenish it. The day continued, slowing down a bit before picking up again around lunch and after office work hours.

George continued to be the center of attention. He seemed to have many female admirers who openly flirted and would wait until he was able to help them. It was hard to tell whether he was flirting or not as he smiled and laughed with them. It was distracting to hear all the pathetic one liners they would throw at him.

But I also got to watch a couple of them glare in envy as he pulled me into a picture with him for an article about the day's success. That almost made up for their gag-worthy attempts. Almost.

"Persephone!" Dean greeted as I watched George be pulled into a conversation with another round of women. "Busy day, eh? "

"Yeah," I agreed. Determined to ignore the scene with George, I focused on Dean. "Didn't you preorder? Did you not get your box?"

"Oh yeah, I got it this morning. It's brilliant. Damn near scared the Scottish out of Seamus this mornin' with that spider. But I wanted to see the action, you know? Everyone's been talking about it at the shop."

I tilted my head in confusion.

"Flourish and Blotts. I'm the shopkeep there."

Had I really not been to the bookstore recently? "Oh, of course." Maybe I needed to get out more. "Yeah, we've been crazy since we opened. I didn't think we'd have so many people since school is in session, but I guess nostalgia and curiosity got the best of everyone. You included."

He chuckled a bit as I finished restocking some Spell Checking Quills. "I guess it did. You know, I was hoping to talk to you, too. Maybe we can grab a cup of tea soon? I know Seamus misses you, too."

I shifted uncomfortably, knowing just what he wanted to talk about. "I actually am pretty busy the rest of year, you know, with the store and the holidays coming up. Maybe after the new year?"

He didn't skip a beat. "Yeah, both our shops are closed on New Year's Day. We can have lunch at The Three Broomsticks."

I couldn't think of a worthy excuse. I agreed, hoping he wouldn't notice my reluctance. I'd have to think of a reason not to go later, but at least he'd be satisfied for a few weeks. He left happily and I continued to stock and help customers until we finally closed.

I said goodbye to our last patron and sent the clerks home before closing down the registers. I didn't realize George was missing until I heard voices towards the back of the store. A quick check revealed George speaking with Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell in the back. Part of me wanted to step in and remind him that we were closed, but I thought better of it. He hadn't spoken to many people in years and they had been close friends at Hogwarts, he deserved to enjoy their company. I finished up restocking the front of the store and left him a note saying I had to go.

He had always had a large social group, always been surrounded by people. Normal for him was a crowd and being the center of attention. That's who he was. He wasn't like me. He needed more than work. He needed more than me.


	14. Happy Christmas

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Lewis asked for the hundredth time that afternoon. We had needed help during Hogwarts' winter break, and had hired the Seventh Year student to help.

"Yes, Lewis. It will be a slow afternoon. Besides, I know Cho likes having you home before dark." He left, but not without asking once more if I was sure. I was. In fact, the shop was the slowest it had been in weeks. Only a handful of people came in for last minute presents and were in and out in a few minutes, everyone rushing home to be with their families.

Snow drifted down outside as I finished locking up the shop. Diagon Alley was beautiful and still blanketed in white. I could remember walking through the street as a child, Mum getting upset with Dad when he would buy me ice cream during the middle of winter or helping Dad pick out her presents for Christmas.

Staring for a minute more, I spun on the spot with a loud pop.

Horsham hadn't received nearly as much snow as London. While it still covered the ground, the houses were free of the whiteness and shining brightly with their Christmas lights. All but one.

My childhood home stood dark and cold, dusted in snow. There was no tree shining in the window. No lights spreading cheer. Just an empty, lifeless house covered in cobwebs.

Turning from the house, I walked along the street. So many Christmas Eves had been spent walking the same path, admiring the lights and displays from our Muggle neighbors. They'd always been beautiful, but never as extravagant as Dad's. Every first of December he'd spend hours placing lights the Muggle way because he thought "the season was magic enough". He had always had so much pride in his displays and decorations.

Around the corner from Knight's and the Wheeler's, the path to Hills Cemetery laid out ahead of me.

It seemed that others had come to wish their lost loved ones a happy Christmas as several of the newer stones had flowers or decorations. A couple even had wreaths. Near the very back of the cemetery, surrounded by graves from a hundred years ago, stood one strikingly new memorial.

As I grew nearer, the engraved words were clear, almost shining against the dark stone.
    
    
     _Even in death, love lives._
    
    
    
    
    
    
        _Carwyn L. Dankworth &           Erasmus X. Carrow-Dankworth_
      
    
    
    
    
    
    
        _September 12, 1956 - July 2, 1994     February 2, 1954 - March 18, 1998_

"Hi Mum. Hi Dad. Happy Christmas."

#### March 18th, 1998

"You should have gone with Cho," Marietta said, rubbing the ointment into my back.

The searing pain made my reply short and raspy. "Then someone else would suffer."

She let out a disapproving breath before I heard her close the jar. "So what? You owe them nothing." She gently covered the fresh wounds with a fresh cloth. "He's going to kill you one of these days." Helping me stand and slip on a shirt, she looked overly distraught.

"He won't. It'd cause more problems for him and his master. I can handle his punishments, but I won't subject someone else to them." I did my best to not flinch every time my shirt touched my back, but there was no fooling her. She had seen it all from the beginning, the first welt followed by open wounds and scars. I doubted there was a place on my back that was not marred in some way. She understood the dark magic that it took to cause them and the pain they inflicted.

But she stayed quiet, knowing that I'd continue to take the abuse. Welcoming it even. For every moment it took to punish me, was a moment he could not hurt someone else. One of the few times I had stayed quiet, a First Year spent three weeks in the hospital wing. Never again.

Hours of the night passed, but I wasn't able to sleep. Despite the months I'd endured at my uncle's hand, I hadn't grown used to the almost debilitating pain. I laid in the dark, listening to the steady breathing of the only other roommate I had left as she slept peacefully. Audrey hadn't come back after break. Cho went into hiding in early February. Sarah, who I hadn't spent more than a couple of weeks away from for over six years, was on the run with Dad. It had become a lonely existence.

The door creaked open slowly and light trickled in from the hall. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered what fresh hell awaited me. Maybe this time I could at least pass out from the pain and exhaustion. I tried to calm myself, but every footstep deepened my anxiety. The person reached my bed and knelt beside it.

"Cho!" My relief at seeing a friendly face quickly disappeared.

"We have to get you out of here. Now." She was quick to start gathering my belongings, putting what she could into my satchel.

"You know I can't." I lifted myself off the bed, the pain leaving me gasping for air.

She didn't stop. "It's your dad. They know."

The DA room wasn't far from the common room and somehow we made it without being seen. It looked completely different than it had two years before and housed dozens of students who probably had never even heard of our group.

Cho hadn't been able to tell me much. She only knew that Dad and Sarah had been traveling with a small group of other "Undesirables" and they had been found and attacked. She said I needed to talk to Seamus.

"I've been communicating with Dean through a scrap of paper we enchanted. 'Bout thirty minutes ago he told me they'd been attacked by Snatchers and he got separated from everyone. Said someone had called out to your dad by name when they ran and that we needed to get you to safety."

He had no other information, Dean hadn't responded since his warning. Cho found a space for me, one a little more private so she could help treat the lashes.

We waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.

My mind filled with regret and worry. I should have gone with them. I should have gone with them. Were they captured? I could have- should have -found another way to hide Sarah. Were they injured?

"You should sleep," Neville told me sometime after lunch. I should. How long had I been awake? Two days? But there was no hope for such an escape.

Cho brought me dinner to my new bed. "You should eat."

"I'm not really hungry."

She pushed the plate into my hands. "Remember when Sarah was studying for O.W.L.S. and was skipping meals? Remember what you told her?"

If you don't eat, you won't be able to function properly. What good will that do you?

I conceded and nibbled on the fish and chips. In the background, the radio was turned to something everyone was calling Potterwatch. It sounded a lot like Lee Jordan.

I didn't pay much mind to what he had to say until the word death grabbed my full attention.

"...deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network News and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Sarah Cook, and Erasmus Carrow."

The plate slipped from my fingers and shattered.


	15. Stories In A Graveyard

**_George_ **

Why do I do this every year? Christmas is the same day. It never changes. Yet, I am never capable of buying gifts on any day other than Christmas Eve. It's pathetic.

Normally it's not much of an issue. I'd only had my family to worry about for years and they were fairly easy to shop for. Even with Fleur, Hermione, and my nieces thrown in the mix, it would take me a couple hours.

But I had spent all day trying to find a gift for Persephone and nothing seemed right. What did she like? We'd been spending so much time together recently and all we'd talked about is work and McLaggen. I'd never even asked what she does in her free time or who her friends were or if she still enjoys reading. I didn't even know her favorite colour. She had saved the shop from certain ruin and I couldn't find her a Christmas present.

_Think, George. Think._

She likes sweaters. She's always wearing one. She had a purple one that she looked particularly lovely in.

_Thanks for saving the shop, here's a sweater!_

She had no problem drinking. She could drink Firewhiskey without batting an eye and she didn't even have a hangover after drinking half a bottle of mead. The woman could handle her liquor.

_Better._

Flourish and Blott's always had a nice assortment of alcohol for the holidays. Maybe I could find a book she would enjoy, too. The bookstore was empty when I entered, saving me the embarrassment of others knowing I had procrastinated to such an extent. The bottles were easy to find and I picked up the most expensive bottle. As I scoured the shelf, however, I noticed a tall bottle filled with blood-red liquid.

**_Seeds of Hades_ **

_Pomegranate Bourbon_

Finding the bourbon seemed to let everything else fall into place. On the same shelf were glasses etched with Hogwarts House Crests much like the ones I had at the office. Grabbing two of the Ravenclaw glasses, I felt as if something was missing. A quick look around revealed a small rack of scarves, one of which was the same purple as her sweater. Finally satisfied, I went to purchase the perfect gifts.

"Happy Christmas," Dean greeted from behind the counter.

"Happy Christmas, Dean."

"Did you want them wrapped?" he asked and I gratefully accepted. My wrapping skills were horrendous. "So, uh, are these for Persephone?"

"Yeah. It is a bit obvious, eh?" Did they know each other? It would be improbable that they didn't at least know of each other, but I didn't remember ever seeing them talk at Hogwarts, not even in DA. Maybe they were friends after I left. Maybe he was one of the people she spent her free time with now.

He wrapped in silence for a few seconds. "Do you know what she's up to tonight?"

Ah. He was not someone she spent time with, but he wanted to be. "She's spending it with her parents." At least I knew that about her.

His hands froze on the half-wrapped box and he stared at me like I had said something completely insane. "Her parents are dead."  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Persephone_ **   
  
  


"...it was a great success. You'd be proud." Maybe it was silly. But I'd only ever spent two Christmases without one of them and I couldn't bear to do it again. _Even in death, love lives._ It's what Mum had told me when Granny passed away. And again when she got sick.

"They'd be incredibly proud."

My head snapped to look behind me, wand at the ready. "George Weasley, don't you ever sneak up on me! I almost hexed you into oblivion!" I was getting rusty. I hadn't heard him approach. "What are you doing here?"

"Dean told me about your parents. You're not the lying type, so I figured if you said you were going to see them, you'd meant it." He sat beside me in front of their grave, a solemn expression on his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrugged, looking away. "It never came up."

He didn't say anything. I expected him to push the subject, accuse me of lying, or something. But he didn't. He just sat there silent and stared at the headstone for a long time. "I understand." He said it so easily as if he truly did understand. More silence followed. Comfortable silence.

"Thank you for coming," I whispered. I leaned into his shoulder, only to have him wrap his arm around me so my head could rest on his chest.

"Didn't seem right that I hadn't met your parents yet considering how friendly you are with mine."

A small sad smile tugged at my lips and a soft chuckle shook my shoulders.

"And I didn't like the thought of you being alone." He laid his head gently on mine as we continued to stare at the headstone. Once more, a comfortable silence fell over us. It was nice not to be alone.

"My mother was a healer at St. Mungos," I said. "The summer before my fourth year, a man came in. He'd been out of the country and didn't feel well. Ended up being the Dragon Pox. Mum and a couple other healers got sick."

"You don't have to tell me," he said into my hair.

Shrugging again, I said, "I want to." He seemed to accept this and I continued. "They didn't let us see her for a week until it stopped being contiguous. The man and the other healers didn't make it that long, but she held on. I got to say goodbye. She died that same night, not even an hour after we left."

"Dad had a really hard time with it, he loved Mum so much. But he was always strong for me. When the war started, he found out about what they planned to do to muggle-borns. Sarah was a Muggle-Born. He decided to help her hide, said it was something Mum would have done. But they were found by Snatchers. He died trying to protect her."

George let out a long sigh, kissing the top of my head softly and pulling me a little closer. He was warm and comforting. Maybe I should have pointed out that this wasn't how a boss should interact with an employee. Maybe I should have sent George home to be with his family. But I didn't want him to stop or to leave. I was far too selfish for that.

Eventually, however, it did have to end.

Shortly before midnight, I pulled away. "You should get back to the Burrow."

"And you?"

I didn't know, really. Probably just go to my loft and drown myself in mulled wine. He didn't like that, even without me mentioning the wine. Thought I should go with him.

"I don't want to intrude."

"Please, my parents love you. Mum was asking about you all morning. And Bill and Fleur want to meet you. Be careful with those two though. If they like you, they'll try to rope you into babysitting." There really was no saying no to the crooked smile on his face.


	16. A Weasley Christmas

A Weasley Christmas was no simple affair. With six children, two grandchildren, and four significant others, they were filled to the brim. Somehow, though, they were still able to make space for me.

Arthur and Mrs. Weasley had set up a cozy, tented space outside for everyone to enjoy Christmas morning. The tree was nearly invisible behind the mountain of presents, only the star on top was peeking out. The pile was excluding the fourteen sweaters Mrs. Weasley had made everyone and were currently being worn. I had even received one and it was already my favorite gift.

The purple jumper had been decorated with a Mooncalf, my absolute favorite magical beast. Arthur knew how much I adored Mooncalfs. We worked a case with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Beast Division early on and we helped save half a dozen of the incredible creatures. He 'assigned' me to help their caretakers for the few days they would be at the Ministry while waiting to go to their new home and it was the best few days of my life.

The jumper also made me popular with toddlers and babies while they waited to open presents. Or at least two. George's warning about his brother and sister-in-law hadn't been for comedic effect. In my lap sat baby Dominique, who was mesmerized by the sewn creature, and toddler Victoire, who wanted to know everything about it.

"Zee iz a natural! Ze girlz love her. Georgie, where did you find zuch a woman?" Fleur asked as I explained to Victoire how Mooncalfs come out on the full moon to dance.

Ginny was quick to respond that George hadn't, it was all her and Ron. Ron looked up briefly from his and Harry's chessboard to agree. George's rebuttal was cut off by a loud pop, signifying that Percy and Audrey had arrived.

I could see the shine from the finger the moment she walked in. A flurry of congratulations and hugs filled the tent and my new best friend quickly left me to join the chaos. Dominique stayed, but only because she couldn't walk.

Audrey was as red as her fiance's hair by the time we got to her. "Congratulations, dear," I told her with a hug.

"Oh Persephone, I'm so glad you're here!" She held onto the baby and me for a few seconds longer than she had with the others. "Isn't it just gorgeous?" It really was, Percy had done an incredible job at selecting the ring. Dominique babbled approvingly.

Victoire, clearly over not being the center of attention anymore, reminded everyone that it was time for presents. She also asked if I could sit with her to open them to which I happily accepted. I was having such a fun time hyping up every gift the girls got, amusing them and their parents, that I had completely forgotten that everyone else had also been opening their presents.

A shrill shriek silenced the tent. Mrs. Weasley was in tears looking down at the parchment in her shaking hands causing several of her children and Arthur to react.

"What's wrong, Mum?"

"Are you alright, Mollywobbles?"

"Cel-Cels-Celestina Wa-Warbeck."

"What?

She held up the pieces of parchment, revealing them to be tickets. "Celestina Warbeck. I'm going to see Celestina Warbeck."

Ron looked at the tickets, muttering something under his breath. He took the box from her and investigated it, turning it till he found what he was looking for. "Bloody hell, Persephone! Do you realize what you've done?" he asked, shaking his head. "We'll never be able to top this! Every other present will be a disappointment!"

"Oh, Ronald, hush," his mother chided. "Thank you, dear! I can't believe it! Celestina Warbeck in person!"

Her excited chatter filled the tent, taking her granddaughter's attention. Excusing myself, I stepped out of the tent to give the Weasley's some time as a family. A bench sat a few yards from the festivity, overlooking the snow covered hills of Ottery St. Catchpole. The view was wonderful, but the wind had picked up after a few minutes. I was about to return to the tent when I heard the crunch of feet on snow.

"What are you doing out here?" It was George who took a seat next to me, holding several wrapped presents. Two of them were the gifts I had gotten him.

I gestured to the scene before us and claimed that I had wanted to enjoy the beauty of it.

"Are they too much?"

"What?"

"My family. I know Victoire can be a handful s-"

I vehemently shook my head. "That little girl is way too adorable to ever be 'too much'. Her and Dominique are literally my favorite people now. You have officially been replaced as my favorite Weasley. Your entire family is wonderful to be around. So no, they are not 'too much' either."

George's mouth lifted into a lopsided smile. "Good. Since we're already out here, thought it'd be a good time to open the gifts we got each other." He handed me three perfectly wrapped boxes. Gifts he had definitely not wrapped himself.

I loved the gifts he had picked out, immediately putting on the scarf to help with the chill. The bourbon made me chuckle and I couldn't wait to enjoy it and the glasses with him. He also enjoyed his presents. He feigned offense when he saw the earmuffs, but wore them proudly. The "world's best boss" mug received much praise and the grooming kit was appreciated.

He was so easy to talk to. It had been a long time since I was able to make such easy conversation with someone. Not even Cormac had made me feel as comfortable as I did sitting on this bench with George. Time passed too quickly with him.

Ginny found us, letting us know that lunch was ready before disappearing back into the tent. "Suppose we should get inside," I said.

"Hold on," George said, leaning in.

My heart pounded in my chest and I stopped breathing. Is he going to kiss me?

"Your hair is stuck in your scarf." He gently pulled my hair over the scarf, allowing the locks of hair to fall over it. "Perfect. Let's go, I'm starving."

It took a moment for me to respond due to the lump in my throat, but he didn't seem to notice. It was all too clear to me that the feeling in my gut was disappointment. I had wanted him to kiss me.


	17. New Year, Old Problems

Tomorrow started a new year and I was excited for it to come. While 2001 hadn't ended on a horrible note, there were plenty of things I wanted to leave behind. My list of resolutions was short and two the point.

_-Release two new products for the shop._

_-Get over the stupid, childish crush I had on my boss._

Simple. Easy. Piece of cake.

It's not like my job or the first thing on my list required me to spend copious amounts of time with him.

Or that I spent six years trying to get over him the last time.

That was different. I was a child in school who had a crush on someone I barely knew. There was a chance then. And if it had happened and failed there wouldn't be any real consequences. Now? If somehow he could ever return my feelings, if something went wrong then I'd have a lot to lose.

I needed to try to keep everything professional for a while. We'd spent too much time together recently and it had crossed the line. After what I went through with Cormac, I couldn't let work and romance mix again. There would be no more extracurricular activities. None.

A knock came from the door. "Who is it?" I called out from bed.

"It's Audrey and Luna!" A combination that would have been very odd to hear back in school.

Like a good witch, I pointed my wand at the door to unlock it. "It's open!"

Luna hadn't changed much since Hogwarts. She still bounced with every step, her expression still far away, and outfits still bold. A stark contrast to Audrey. "Hello Persephone, it's very nice to see you again."

The two sat at the foot of my bed as we said our hellos. Audrey was quick to get to the point of their visit. "So I wanted to celebrate the engagement tonight. A lot of us are going out to the Broom Shed and I really wanted you to be there." She smiled brightly as she pushed her hair behind her ear, the ring on her finger glittering.

It wasn't what I was expecting her to ask. In the time I'd been old enough to go out, I'd only ever been to a few pubs and never an actual club like the Broom Shed. It wasn't my kind of place. The dancing, blaring music, and general atmosphere didn't suit me well. Cormac had asked a few times, but I never wanted to.

"I'm not really one for clubs, Audrey."

She pouted. "Please, Persephone. I really want you to go. You introduced me to Percy, he told me you gave him ideas for the proposal, and you're my friend who I miss. Just for a few hours."

"I don't have anything to wear," I said weakly.

Luna smiled. "We can help with that."

The hem of my dress was much shorter than I was used to and rode up even higher if I moved too much. Combined with the fact that Audrey was also slightly slimmer than me, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. The only reason I had agreed to it was because it completely covered my back.

A heavy breath reminded me to calm myself. Tonight was to celebrate my friend. To celebrate a new year. Maybe I'd meet somebody and we'd fall madly in love. Or at least it could help me forget about George.

All the girls met at Audrey's place and it felt like a DA reunion. One with a bit of tension. Marietta and Cho looked somewhat uncomfortable as we were joined by Hermione and Ginny, but they were all perfectly polite to each other. Ginny convinced everyone to take a shot of Gigglewater and we set off.

The liquid courage and some very raunchy comments from Ginny made me feel better as we walked into the club. It was just as I had expected. Loud. But the shot had made it bearable. We were quickly approached by Percy and an even larger group of guys. Oliver Wood, Harry, Ron, and some guys I recognized from the Ministry. A few awkward introductions and hellos later, they showed us the tables they had acquired. We ordered drinks and a round of shots, toasting to the engagement.

The tension of earlier quickly passed as everyone started talking. Marietta and Hermione were in deep conversation with the others who worked at the Ministry about some new initiative while Cho was being given offers to help teach the kids at the Home Quidditch by Oliver and Ginny, and maybe even get to meet some of the Harpies. Luna and I found ourselves talking about one of the creatures she had recently discovered. When one of the new Weird Sister songs came on, the majority of people in the group went off to dance, including Cho and Marietta.

Audrey was a horrible dancer, but somehow she was better than Percy. They truly were a perfect match. Oliver, who had stayed behind, shouted and waved to someone I couldn't see, motioning for them to join us. Lee Jordan, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson appeared from the crowd and greeted us. I barely knew them personally, but Lee was very enthusiastic to see me.

"Oy! Over here Weasley!" he shouted. George's smiling face was unmistakable in the sea of people.

So much for avoiding him outside of work.

"Percy told me that Audrey had convinced you to come out, but I had to see it with my own eyes," he said as he released me from a hug that went on a moment longer than it should have. Hopefully no one else could hear my heart beating, even though I could swear it was louder than the beat of the music. He looked me up and down in a way that made me blush furiously. He leaned in close and said into my ear, "You look beautiful, by the way."

The others joined us again and saved me from embarrassing myself. Another round of drinks was ordered, leaving me in a chipper mood. When one of the Ministry guys asked me to dance, I accepted. Henry was a very nice person and didn't complain at all when I stepped on his feet. He led me back to the table, only for Oliver to ask. And then Lee. I stepped on many toes, but none of them seemed to mind. My spirits were high as I approached the table once more. It was a fun night.

"Can I have the next dance?"

There was no saying no to George. I let him guide me out further onto the dance floor, well away from the view of our friends. The previous song was ending, only to roll into a much slower song. Maybe I should have said I needed a break.

We didn't really speak as we swayed. My stomach was in knots with him being so close again. It was nice, despite the nervousness. I managed to step on his toes and he made a joke that cracked some of my anxiety.

As it ended, he surprised me with a quick spin before dipping me. It caused me to burst into giggles and neither of us could stop laughing all the way back to the table. Hermione and I stayed behind at the table as George went off with his friends.

The night was actually turning out to be fun. Ginny brought us more shots and we downed them quickly. It was a good thing to come out tonight.

"Look who actually decided to enjoy life for once," Cormac whispered in my ear. My reflexes worked at a snail's pace and it allowed him the chance to grab on to me from behind. "You look incredible."

"Get off her!" "Let her go!"

He paid no mind to what the others were telling him and instead grasped me tighter. "All those years and you never came out for me. Never got the chance to show you off like this." His free hand was running up and down my side.

"Cormac, please let go of me."

"Why did you come out tonight? Did you know I was gonna be here? Wanted to impress me? Hmm? Fuck Pers, I miss you."

I struggled in his grasp. "Please, Cormac."

"Come home with me. Let me show you how sorry I am. Let's forget everything and start over."

Then he was gone. He'd been jerked off of me by a red-faced George. "She said let go." He shoved him away, pushing my hair back and asking if I was okay.

"You came out with Weasley?" Cormac's voice was angry. He fixed his robes and tried to step closer, only to be blocked by Ron and Percy. This agitated him further. "Seriously? After everything we've been through? After I saved you? You're going to choose them? You're going to choose _him_?" he yelled over their heads.

George put his back to Cormac, saying something to me. I could hear words, but I couldn't understand them. He took my hand, leading me away when Cormac got his final words in.

"Enjoy the scarred bitch! She's lousy in the sack, anyway!"


	18. The Plight Of Dumbledore's Army

**_Early April 1998_ **  
  
  


"You have to eat something."

My weary eyes landed on Cho as she held out a plate with a roll and potatoes. Meat and other vegetables had been scarce by time April rolled in, with Aberforth only able to order so much food without raising suspicion. "I had lunch. I'm fine, really. Give it to the First Years."

"You had lunch _yesterday_. And you only ate half a scone for breakfast. You can't keep doing this; the body needs food," she insisted as she shoved the plate towards me.

It would do me no good to outright refuse her. She was persistent. "I'll take this," I picked up the roll, "but please, give the potatoes to the kids."

She let out a frustrated sigh but left with the small victory. I watched from afar as she rationed out tiny portions of the potatoes among the group of First Years. I'd cycle between the youngest Years, trying to ensure they'd all get a bit more, but it never felt like enough. Their stomachs rumbled and many would be lethargic on the days between proper meals.

Cho looked back at me before she returned through the tunnel to the Hog's Head, only going through once I raised the roll and gave her a tight-lipped smile. As soon as the portrait closed behind her I made my way over to a couple of Third Years, offering them the roll under the guise that I was feeling full. They graciously accepted and I could see them take it over to a couple more friends and share the small piece of bread.

"I think you actually have to eat something to be full."

"Shove off and bother someone else, McLaggen." He'd joined some time the week after I had, along with nearly a dozen others. From the moment he'd been here all he had done was complain. About the food, the lack of space, his bed not having enough pillows. Nothing seemed to be up to his standards. His favorite pastime seemed to be bothering me.

"Sorry, but I got orders from Longbottom to round up anyone over seventeen. You're my last stop, love."

My wand found itself at the boy's throat. "Call me that again, and you won't be speaking for a week."

His smug smile didn't waver as he prodded, "Go ahead and try it, _love_. You and I both know that you haven't got the energy to make anything last more than a couple minutes." He waited expectantly as I glowered at him. "That's what I thought. Now come on we don't want to keep everyone waiting, do we love?"

Never in my life had I wanted to hit anybody as much as I did him. He offered his arm, but I ignored the arrogant prick and stalked off to the back room where the meeting had to be taking place. It was rare when Neville called a meeting like this. He wanted to run things fairly and most of our decisions were done as an entire group where everyone had a say, not just the adults. Only two meetings had occurred before while I'd been here and both had been about rationing the food.

All the Seventh Years and the Sixth Years that were already of age were already waiting in the room, forming a semicircle with Neville as their center. "That's the last of 'em," McLaggen said, shutting the door behind him

"Great, thanks Cormac. Alright, so as you all know Aberforth has been having trouble getting food. Yesterday, he had a visit from Death Eaters asking about him ordering more food, but having fewer visitors. He was able to talk his way out of any suspicion they had, but he's going to have to cut down on his orders even more, at least for a bit."

Groans and profanity echoed across the group. Many of them already gave up a couple meals a week to keep the rations at a healthy level for the younger students. It felt like every time we made it back from the verge of drowning, something would pull us under again.

"I know, guys, but we don't have any choice. Some food is better than nothing."

"What about the kitchens?" Someone asked.

"Yeah, what happened to that house elf? Doggy, was it?"

Neville's already grave face dropped more. "Dobby is in hiding. There's a price for his head. He told me that the others would help us, but that they're too afraid of getting caught to come to us."

More groans from the others. Hopeless faces all around.

"What if we go to them?" I asked.

He shook his head. "We plan to when Micheal finishes the Polyjuice potion, but that's still a couple weeks away. Until then it's too dangerous. If someone gets caught it'll put all of us at risk."

If one of us were to get caught, we'd be tortured brutally until we gave up the location of everyone or until we died. Either way, it wouldn't be ideal and few people would volunteer for such a mission.

Still, I chewed my lip as Neville discussed the new rationing that would start in the morning. There had to be a way. The threat of getting caught wasn't going to go away nor was the punishment of getting caught. But what we would know if we got caught...that could change.

"What if we use a Forgetfulness Potion?" I interrupted.

The group turned to me. "Um, well I don't think that would be helpful considering we'd need to remember where to go," Neville said apologetically.

"No, no." I shook my head. "We would take it if we got caught. I know it's a simple potion that usually isn't very specific, but we could make it specific. I'm sure we have all the ingredients for it."

Neville contemplated while everyone looked on eagerly. People discussed what ingredients they had, those better at potions mentioning the new ingredients we would add to make the potion work. It seemed to be going in the right direction.

"If you get caught, I doubt you'll have time to take out a potion and drink it before they bind you," McLaggen offered helpfully.

Prick.

The hope that had been building in the room burst. "He's right," Neville said.

Hannah stepped forward. "What if we put the potion into a capsule like the Muggles do?"

I could have kissed her. It was bloody brilliant. If I could tell Mum that watching those old war documentaries she loved so much would actually become useful one day, it would be the best day of her life. "Like a Cyanide Pill."

She nodded, a small smile on her face knowing that it wasn't a crazy thought.

McLaggen asked, "What is a Sigh Need Bill?" 

It wasn't a surprise that most Pureblood or even Half-bloods didn't know what it was, but it was still difficult not to roll my eyes and use a not so polite tone when I explained what it was to him. It was for the benefit of the group after all. "It's something Muggles use during war. They put a fast acting poison into a small vial- small enough to swallow. They either keep it somewhere accessible or in their mouths, and if they get caught by an enemy they just bite down on it."

Hannah and I fielded a few questions from those curious, but as they started getting off topic we put an end to it.

"Look," I said to Neville, "This is a viable option. Maybe our only option other than possibly starving for weeks. The kids need this. We need this. If we can make the potion and get it into a vial by tomorrow night, I'll go then."

Cho and Seamus were quick to object. They'd been protective since I'd gotten there, each trying to offer their support after what had happened. A few others chimed in saying it shouldn't have to be me.

Then they started to fight amongst themselves who should go. Seamus, Cho, Neville, Hannah, Ernie, and Micheal all claimed it should be them. The Hufflepuffs claimed that they knew their ways to the kitchen better than anyone, the Ravenclaws arguing that they have better routes downstairs, while the Gryffindor boys tried to say that they should go because the others shouldn't have to.

_Silencio._

With a jab of my wand, the room fell silent and all eyes were back on me.

"While you are all being very honorable, you're also being rather stupid. Seamus, Cho, Hannah - you're all the ones in charge of your House. Micheal and Ernie, you both have siblings or cousins in here looking to you for support. And Neville, you're keeping everyone in here alive. None of you should go because you're too important here. I've done nothing but mope around for weeks, it's time I actually start contributing. Besides, this was my plan."

A hand landed softly on my shoulder and I looked to meet the eyes of McLaggen. He pointed to his mouth and raised his eyebrows. Of course he had something to say. I shook off his hand and I unsilenced him.

He cleared his throat a couple of times as if to test if he could actually make a sound. "I think Persephone is right. It should be her."

The others raised their hands in angry questions, Seamus giving him an obscene gesture. I didn't know whether I should be thanking him for agreeing with me or punching him for wanting to get rid of me.

"But," he added, taking a step away from me, "She shouldn't go alone. I'll go with her."

"Fuck no." I couldn't stop myself. I'd rather hand myself over to the Carrows than go with him.

He gave me his usual smile. "Think about, love. I may not be the most intelligent or the most patient or the most cunning- "

"You could say that again."

" -but I am the fastest. On legs or broom. And if we need a quick escape, a broom would be the best way. I know for a fact Madam Hooch leaves all the broom sheds unlocked, so if we need to call one it'd be quick."

If the Carrows or Snape caught us, I couldn't see us actually making an escape on a broom. There were just too many ways to interfere with the flight path. But if only one of us was on that broom and the other stayed behind as a distraction, then everyone here would still get food. I didn't doubt that McLaggen would need little persuasion to leave me behind if it saved his own arse.

He was also very good on a broom. Sarah used to...

No. _No._ I couldn't think about her. Not yet.

"Fine," I said. "McLaggen and I will go for the food. Neither of us has been pulling our full weight around here, anyway."

From the sounds of shuffling feet, I could tell the charm over the group was evaporating, but they remained silent. I was right.

Neville finally broke the silence. "We'll decide it how we always do: with a vote." He nodded and we all fell back into our semi-circle around him.

"All those in favor of Persephone and Cormac going," he said, watching what seemed like half the room raise their arm in support. I took a quick tally. With myself included, we had just over half the room.

"All those opposed." Neville himself raised his hand, as did Cho and Seamus, but they had already been outnumbered.

"Those in favor have the majority. Ernie and Micheal, please consult with Hannah and Persephone about making the potion. Cho and Seamus, I need you two to ration out the food a little more for tomorrow's meals. I want to make sure they have full meals. And as for you two," he said looking between McLaggen and me, "get a full night's rest. You're going to need it."

With that, he dismissed us.  
  
  


Far away from the others, I sat hidden in a corner with a small radio and a book of spells that had mysteriously appeared in my trunk a few months prior. Potterwatch was due to come on soon according to the message Ginny had sent Neville earlier across their coins. It was rare when such a broadcast would be made, so rare that this was only the third time they'd broadcasted in the weeks I'd been here.

It was a good distraction, too. Hannah, Ernie, Micheal, and I had been up late trying to figure out the potion despite Neville's orders. It was easy to strengthen it, to where it would knock out a few weeks worth of memories, but I had too much knowledge of the DA and even the Order that a few weeks weren't enough. We had come up with a solution, however.

Adding in knotgrass and my DA coin, the potion would target those memories. If I had to take it, it was likely I would lose most if not all memories that could be connected to that coin. Months of my life would suddenly disappear. Realizing the gravity of the potion, the others tried to back out and find another solution, but there wasn't time. And for the sake of everyone else, it was a risk worth taking for me. 

Going over the spells for the hundredth time (I hadn't had the guts to test any of them yet for fear it was left maliciously), I sat dutifully waiting for the show to start. It was a small, stupid hope that I had that made me listen despite the pain it brought me. I thought that maybe, just maybe, Dad and Sarah had actually made it out and they'd only fake their deaths to avoid being targets. It wasn't likely, but it was all I had.

It came on, Lee's voice masquerading as River once again. More death. What sounded like our DADA professor from years ago gave an update on two more people who'd been arrested in connection to their support of Harry and attesting to the fact that he was still out there fighting for us.

"Mind if I join you, love?" McLaggen, two plates in hand, had managed to sneak up on me while I was engrossed in the show.

"I do, actually."

He ignored my objection, sliding down the wall to sit right next to me, causing me to move so I didn't have to touch him. He held a plate out in front of me.

"Not hungry," I said, pushing it away.

He shoved it back towards me again. "You're going to eat anyway."

"No."

He sat the plate in my lap. "It's not a request. Either you eat or I'll let Neville and Cho know that you've been skipping twice the amount of meals you should have for two weeks. Are you willing to risk our trip to the kitchens tonight?"

I glowered at the plate, a drumstick, cubed potatoes, and assorted vegetables staring back. "What's it matter to you?"

"You'll be a liability out there if you aren't functioning properly from starvation. Can't have that, can we love?" I choked down a rather nasty remark and took a bite off the plate. He seemed satisfied at his victory, allowing me to eat without further comment.

_"And next, we have our dear friend Raven on today in place of Rapier to give you the latest take on the Chief Death Eater and the improbable rumors surrounding him. Welcome, Raven!"_

A familiar voice resonated from the speakers. _"Thanks, River! Happy to be here today to help dispel some of those fun little gossips that have been floating about."_

His name came out breathlessly from my lips. "George." He was still alive and well.

"Is it? Could be the other one," McLaggen said.

_"...sad to say that I can confirm Noseless does in fact fly. According to our research, his grandfather appears to have been a sentient broom."_

_"Can you imagine the splinters?"_ River joked.

"No, it's definitely George. His voice is deeper."

"I didn't realize you were close with them," McLaggen said.

My now empty plate clattered against the floor as I set it aside. "I'm not."

"Ahh. One of their admirers then? Part of their fan club? Which one's your favorite? Would either do? Have you already thrown yourself at them or are you waiting in hopes one will notice you?"

My wand pressed against his neck for the second time in two days. "For once in your life, shut the fuck up. Just because you're too fucking stupid to tell the difference between the two of them, doesn't mean everyone else is. And if you're jealous of the attention they get from women, maybe you shouldn't be such a self-serving, egotistical douche and you might actually get lucky."

He cocked his head to the side, looking amused. "I've got your attention, love, and that's good enough for me."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're hot when you're angry."

" _Mimblewimble_."

He made some sounds of annoyance as the Tongue-Tying Jinx took effect, but I didn't bother sticking around to listen. I'd have to deal with him a few hours, but until then I would enjoy a nap.


	19. I'm Here For You

**_George_ **   
  
  


The club was illuminated by at least half a dozen spells. McLaggen was thrown back and left unrecognizable by the numerous hexes that had been cast at him. I stuffed my wand back in my pocket and helped Persephone through the crowd and out the doors. The others followed shortly, all trying to comfort her. She said little and looked overwhelmed with the attention.

"Persephone needs her space, guys. Let me get her out of here and she'll talk to you later."

They reluctantly agreed and said their goodbyes. Audrey looked almost as upset as Persephone as she hugged her tight. With everyone gone, I asked if she wanted me to take her home. She shook her head. "Let's go to my loft then. Mum just sent me some Treacle Tart."

"I don't think I can Apparate." Her voice was low and pained. She shivered when a gust of wind blew over us.

Covering her in my jacket, I assured her it was alright and that we were close enough to walk. It was a quiet, quick walk, the only sound was her heels clapping against the pavement. She allowed me to help her up the stairs to the loft and sat on the couch.

I shouldn't have asked Audrey to convince her to come out tonight. Persephone looked so broken and small as she stared off into space, clinging tightly to the jacket around her. She didn't respond when I said I was gonna bring her some tea, but I took it as a sign to make it.

If she hadn't needed me, if she hadn't been so clearly in pain, I would have gone back to that club and beat the ever living shit out of McLaggen until my own fists bleed.

Her head was in her hands when I returned with the tea and pastry. "Hey, are you alright?" I asked.

Red, tear-soaked eyes looked up at me. It devastated me to watch her shake her head and cry harder. She leaned into me when I sat next to her and began to sob uncontrollably. I held her tightly as they violently wracked her body. There wasn't anything I could really say other than, "I'm here for you."

It felt like hours that we sat there until she fell asleep. It crossed my mind to put her in my bed again, but I didn't think it'd be right to leave her alone. She seemed comfortable resting against me and I didn't mind. And if she wasn't there to ground me, I would go after the fucking prick. So She stayed. Some time later, I dozed off too.

Persephone was still asleep when I woke up. Hair had fallen over her face and I gently pushed it out of the way. Streaks of dark makeup had stained her cheeks and her mouth was slightly open as she breathed. Angelic was the only word that seemed to accurately describe her in that moment.

Scarred bitch, he had called her.

McLaggen had gotten off easy after what he said. He'd probably only be in St. Mungos for a few hours before he was fine to leave, a light sentence considering he was hexed by four Weasley's, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and half a dozen others. I could only hope the humiliation would be enough for him to leave her alone for good.

She started to stir and I hastily closed my eyes. It would seem weird if I was just staring at her. She sat up and my arms reluctantly fell away from her. The couch moved under her as she seemed to stretch.

"George?" She said lightly, giving me a slight nudge.

"Hmphh?" Hopefully she wouldn't notice my poor acting as I 'woke up' and let out a big yawn. "Oh, g' mornin', Seph."

She gave me a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks for, um, last night. I'm sorry for ruining your New Year's."

"You didn't ruin anything." She pulled away when I went to reassure her with a hug and I tried not to take it personally. Hadn't she been through a lot last night? "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She sat quietly, not looking much better than she had the night before. "He was just drunk." It sounded like she needed to convince herself more than me. Looking at the clock, she pushed herself off the couch. "I should get going. The girls must be worried."

I offered to make her breakfast, but she declined. There was a pained expression on her face as she gave an awkward side hug and left.

In the afternoon, I found myself in Hogsmeade with Lee looking into the old Zonko's store. It had been boarded up for years now, since early on in the war, and Fred and I had considered purchasing it at one point. But the Order needed us and we didn't have time to worry about expansion. Now, however, with the shop on the rise and my mind right, it was an option once more.

"Lots a good memories, 'ere," Lee said, staring up at the closed shop.

"Lots, mate. Lots," I agreed. It had been the place the three of us had visited the most during our visits. A third home to the Burrow and Hogwarts. "With many more to come, yeah?"

After inspecting the inside and getting a fairly decent quote on the price, we stopped by the Three Broomsticks for a spot of lunch. Lee was excited at the prospect of the shop expanding and was talking about another interview on his show.

"Think Persephone would go on, as well?"

I shook my head. "No, she doesn't really like public speaking - even on the radio." That's what she told me when I had asked her to do the first interview with me.

"Too bad," Lee said before taking a swig from his Butterbeer. "So what's up with you two?"

"What do you mean?"

He rolled his eyes and pointed one of his chips at me. "Come off it. It's obvious that you're into her. Been obvious since the show. And I haven't forgotten that crush you had on her back in Sixth and Seventh Year, either."

My nose burned as Butterbeer flowed out and I coughed into my robe. "Blimey, mate, lower your voice!" The few patrons of the bar were shooting me disdainful glances. "And yeah, alright, I'm quite taken by her. Happy?"

"Then why haven't you done something about it?"

"I'm her boss, it's not like I can just ask her out. I don't want her thinking she has to date me to keep her job. Besides, after last night with that wanker, I don't think she's really ready for another relationship."

Lee nodded. "What an arse. Hope he enjoyed being bald. Don't know if he really noticed it though, considerin'," he looked amused, probably at the thought of the mess we'd left of the git. "She's got a thing for you though. Her face was as red as a turnip after your dance and she kept looking at you whenever you were around."

"Did she?" Sipping my drink, I pondered if I should just ask her. That thought was quickly crushed as I remembered how she had acted in the morning. "She still needs time, I don't want to push her when it's clear she isn't ready."

Lee looked past me and said, "Well, you might not want to wait too long. Seems like you're not the only person interested in her."

Through the window, I could see a smiling Persephone walking along with Dean Thomas.


	20. He's Just Your Type

* **WARNING***  
This chapter contains scenes of violence/torture.  
  


**_Early April 1998_ **

"Are you sure you want to do this? I can go instead." Seamus asked for the third time.

It was past one in the morning. All but a handful of people were asleep in their cots or hammocks. "I'm going, Seamus. Besides, the potion won't work on you." Hannah had already charmed the little vile to stick to the side of my cheek. A better location than between my teeth where an accident could easily cause it to break. "If something happens out there or if I don't come back -"

"You shouldn't talk like that!"

"- take care of Aiden for me. I know he's a Hufflepuff, but he's fond of hanging around your kids. Please."

He rubbed his temple. "Of course I'll take care of him. But you can't make it seem like you know you're not coming back. You have to come back, alright? You at least have to try your damnedest to."

I tried to reassure him that I would, but I doubted I sounded convincing. I'd done the maths. It was highly unlikely that we wouldn't run into one of the Death Eaters. Patrols had increased dramatically recently due to the amount of students seeking shelter with us. It was a miracle no one had been caught yet. I had brought along a few extra things, but they would only be helpful with certain contingencies.

"Ready to go, love?"

Seamus glowered at him. "Watch yourself, McLaggen."

"Don't worry, mate," he said with a laugh, throwing his arm over my shoulders, "we're all on the same team here."

"Yeah?" Seamus asked, pushing him off of me. "Just like you were on the same team as Harry last year when you knocked 'em over the head with a Beater's bat?"

McLaggen's smile faltered. "That has nothing to do with this."

"Doesn't it? What 'bout the fact that Persephone here clearly can't stand being around you, but you keep badgering 'er anyways? Did the same shit with Hermione!"

Both their faces were reddening and they seemed on the verge and an all out fight. Normally, I wouldn't mind McLaggen getting his arse kicked, but if it happened today it would set back the kitchen run. There was no one else who could go with me until a new potion was brewed for them. It'd be a waste of time and resources, both in short supply already.

"That's enough, both of you," I said as I stepped between them. "We don't have to like each other right now, but we do have to work with each other. So let's cut the petty drama and get through tonight. If you want to have a go at each other, do it tomorrow." Neither said anything, just continued to glare at each other over my head. Men. "Come on," I told McLaggen, shoving him towards Neville and Hannah who stood near the stairs leading out.

"Are you two ready?"

"Yeah."

They wished us luck, reminding us that it would be better to come back without food than not come back at all. A lie to make us feel better if we failed. McLaggen followed me up the steps, taking the random twists and turns of the stairs until we came to a solid wall. "Last chance to turn back," I warned.

"And give you all the glory?" he teased.

I spun to face him, irritated. "Is everything a joke to you? Do you understand what's at stake? Our friends, the kids, they're depending on us. If Aberforth has to cut orders again or if we get more people, some of them will start to go hungry. This isn't about glory or recognition. This is about keeping people alive. If you can't wrap your head around that, if you're not willing to do whatever it takes to get food back here, then I don't want you out there."

"Do you really think so low of me?"

"You haven't given me any reason to think anything different."

He shifted on his feet, looking away from me. "I understand what we're doing tonight. I understand people are depending on us. I didn't volunteer because I thought it would be fun. After what I said to Amycus, after what I did to him, if he catches me, I doubt there will be much left of me to come back." He'd never shared why he had sought us out, only that he had a target on his back and needed to hide. But so did everyone else.

"Why did you volunteer?"

He blinked a few times. "Because I didn't want you to go alone." There was no smug smile, no wiggling brows, no obnoxious flirty tone. He still avoided looking at me.

"Well," I said after an awkwardly long silence, " we should, um, get going."

The corridor was silent as we passed through, making our way slowly so our footsteps didn't echo. No one was on the seventh floor and we made it down to the fourth floor without incident. Then footsteps alerted us, forcing us to hide in an open classroom nearby.

"...don't care about your vendetta against a child. We have large problems to deal with." Severus Snape's monotone voice floated through the cracked door.

"She's not a child anymore, Severus! And she and the others are hiding somewhere here in the castle. They're a threat." Amycus sounded agitated.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door. McLaggen and I held our breath. Had we been found? Had we been unlucky enough to hide in the one place they were heading?

Snape spoke again, "Rowle is more of a threat to us than those children. Or do you not remember how his fear of those children led him to accidentally kill Gibbons last June?" Gibbons, that had been the name of the Death Eater who had died at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. He'd been struck by a rouge Killing Curse his fellow cronie had shot wildly. It had been dumb luck that moments before Gibbons was hit, he had pushed me to the ground ready to fire his own curse at me. "Had you been more welcoming of your niece, she may have been inclined to join us. But we cannot focus on what you could have done better to serve the Dark Lord, it would take far too much time. We've already wasted too much of our resources on the extra patrols you requested. If that is not sufficient in finding a group of children, then it may be time we rethink your assignment here."

The sound of a cloak whipping against the air was followed by a set of footsteps away from the door.

Amycus muttered, "I'll kill that disgusting little bitch when I find her," before hastily following the other man down the hall. McLaggen and I stayed still and quiet for several more minutes, waiting in fear that one of them would come back. They didn't.

"I think- I think we're good to go," I whispered. He nodded slowly, his eyes far away. "Are you alright?"

He blinked a couple times, the daze fading. "I didn't know he had a niece here. Or that she was hiding with us." Or that she was standing next to him.

Would he care if he knew it was me? "That's not important right now. What's important is the way is clear now. You can turn back if you want, but I'm going to the kitchen."

"I'm not going to leave you alone out here, especially not with that man roaming the halls." McLaggen was known for being the worst kind of Gryffindor. Self-righteous, reckless, and shortsighted. I couldn't think of any positive interaction I had had with him. Yet here he was, trying to take a role as my protector. My earlier assumption that he would easily leave me in a fight suddenly felt wrong.

"You Gryffindors and your chivalry," I said, shaking my head. He broke into a smile and for once it didn't make me want to punch him.

We made it down another flight of stairs, the memory of First Year's warning echoing in my head. The third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. It had been years since it had been a forbidden place, but I still shuddered whenever I passed it.

Halfway down the next flight of stairs, a cat's meowing froze McLaggen to the spot. Mrs Norris and Argus Filch walked out from the second floor corridor, looking up the stairs at us. McLaggen lifted his wand, but I pushed it down. The cat rubbed against the caretaker's legs before bounding up the steps towards us. McLaggen tried again to lift his wand and I shoved it back down. "Wait."

Crouching and holding out my hand, I waited patiently as Mrs Norris sniffed. Her large, lantern like eyes looked up at me for a moment and let out a soft purr, rubbing her head against my palm. "It's nice to see you, too," I said, scratching her behind her ear. Argus gave a slight nod and hobbled back down the second floor corridor.

"We need to get to the kitchen," I told her. Rummaging through my pocket, I pulled out a treat that I had brought along in case I ran into her. "Can you help us?"

She blinked twice, a sign that I had come to learn meant 'follow me'. She turned, stalking down the steps quickly.

"You're friends with Filch and the cat?"

"Half of Hufflepuff and a good portion of Ravenclaw is. We don't get ourselves into the same trouble as your housemates always do. And we actually treat them with some respect. Had a bit of a rift in Fifth Year, but been on good terms since. Bet you lot never even bothered to learn Argus's birthday."

" _Argus?_ "

Mrs Norris lead us down the main stairs, rounding the corner into the dungeons. She slowed, walking in a circle and continued on, disappearing around the corner. 'Wait'. A minute later she was back, blinking twice.

Down one of the halls was a brightly lit, broad corridor full of food themed paintings. Hannah had said to access the kitchen, we needed to tickle the pear on a painting of a bowl of fruit. It giggled before turning itself into a large green door handle.

We made it.

The kitchen resembled the Great Hall, even having all five tables lined up exactly the same. Pots and pans were lined up on countertops and stoves around the edges. We'd been told over a hundred house elves worked in the kitchen, but we were met by only three.

They bowed before us, stopping what they were doing to ask how they could be of service. "We're friends of Dobby. He said you might be able to help us with food," I said, pulling out the two large sacks we'd brought to fill.

"Yes, yes. He said you might be coming," one said, taking the bags. "Winky promised she would help." She handed one to another elf and the two of them set off towards a pantry where we could hear them filling the sacks.

"Could you make us a couple sandwiches?" McLaggen asked the remaining elf who dutifully nodded and rushed off. We sat together at the furthest table, waiting.

My fingers strummed against the wood as I tried to relax and not think of our journey back. We were lucky to have made it down without running into any unfriendly persons, but luck always had a way of running out. It did for Mum. For Dad. For Sarah. What if I was bound to end up just the same?

The third elf placed a sandwich in front of each of us, bowing before returning to whatever job they had been doing before. McLaggen inhaled his quickly, but I had a harder time. The weeks of self-induced starvation had reduced the amount of food I could consume. If I made it back, I hoped our food run would mean we could have regular meals and I could get my appetite back. I pushed the last quarter of the sandwich away, unable to finish.

"Can't eat the rest?" McLaggen asked. I shook my head, slightly ashamed at the wasted food and wondered if I could ask the elves to wrap it up for me. Then I watched with horror as he plopped the partially eaten sandwich in his mouth. The sandwich I had eaten.

"Do you just eat after people? My saliva was on that!"

His frustrating smirk reappeared as he chewed. "Not just anyone, love. If I wouldn't kiss them, I wouldn't eat after them." The goodwill he had built himself on our down promptly shattered. Why? Why did he have to be such a flirtatious arse?

"Enjoy the sandwich, then, cause that's the closest you'll ever get to kissing me. I'm going to check on the food." In a huff, I walked over to the pantry the first two elves had disappeared into. The bags were full- taller and wider than even me- and were being tied up by the one who had called herself Winky. I thanked the two elves, asking if they could scrounge up a couple pastries as well. They happily obliged.

Alone in the pantry, out of view from Cormac, I shrunk one of the bags and put a Feather Light Charm on it. Untying the second bag, I placed the tiny first one in it and quickly retied, shrunk, and lightened it. McLaggen was taking the pastries from the elves when I came out.

"Here," I said, holding out the bag, "this one is yours. I have the other one just in case we get separated." He took it, admiring how small and light it was and asking if I could do the same with the pastries. With another round of thanks to the elves, we headed back out to the basement corridor where Mrs Norris was waiting patiently.

She meowed once, rubbing at my feet until I pulled out another treat. A purr of gratitude later and she took off down the hall, quicker than she had when we were making our way down. As she rounded the corner that led out to the ground floor of the castle, I could hear her hiss her warning.

There was a door to my right that I opened and dragged McLaggen into. It was a broom closet, one that was barely big enough for the both of us to squeeze into. "This is intimate," McLaggen joked before I clasped my hand over his mouth and hoped my glare would convey how much I wanted to punch him.

"Stupid cat." It was Pansy Parkinson. Mrs Norris continued to hiss, seemingly following her.

A male voice, one I was sure belonged to Blaise Zabini replied, "So first men don't like you, and now neither do cats, huh?"

"Shut up."

"If you didn't want to listen to me, you shouldn't have made me come out on this stupid patrol." Mrs Norris hissed again. "Maybe next time, I can patrol with you, yeah?"

"Just shut up!" Parkinson shrieked. The sickening sound of Mrs Norris being kicked and her cries of pain reverberated against the stone wall. McLaggen was quick to cover my mouth and pin me in place as I attempted to go help her.

"What the fuck did you do that for?"

"I am so sick of being everyone's punching bag. And this stupid cat, I can't fucking stand it. Hogwarts would be better without it, don't you think? The Carrows are always complaining about it. They'd probably thank me if it just disappeared." I struggled against McLaggen trying to get out.

There was a scuffle on the other side of the door. " _Petrificus totalus!_ " A thud sounded, followed by Zabini cursing under his breath.

McLaggen was distracted for a moment and I took the opportunity to push him off and spill out the closet. Zabini stood over a frozen Parkinson, wand aimed at me.

"Where's Mrs Norris?"

He inclined his head to the side where Mrs Norris was lying in a small pool of blood and breathing erratically. Kneeling by the cat, I cast every healing charm I could remember until her breathing slowed and she turned her eyes on me. She let out a soft meow, standing up and shaking herself out. "Go back to Argus. We'll be fine," I said as she purred against my hand. She blinked once at me and walked out of the corridor.

McLaggen and Zabini were tense watching each other, their wands pointed at each other. Parkinson was still frozen on the ground, but her eyes were moving. "Do either of you have experience with Memory Charms?" Zabini eyed me wearily. "She'll remember you fighting her. I doubt that will go over well for you."

He seemed to contemplate his options for a moment, deciding we were less of threat than the girl on the ground. "I've never done one, but I've seen them be done a couple times." It was better than nothing. And Zabini was intelligent, he wasn't likely to mess up too badly. I stood by McLaggen as the Slytherin held his wand at Parkinson's head and a white mist came out. "I think that's it. You two should go before she comes back around."

"Thanks, Zabini," McLaggen said. Zabini nodded and returned his attention to Parkinson while we quickly bounded out the corridor before he could change his mind. Our plan of slow and quiet had been thrown out as we ran up the flights of stairs, making it to the second floor before we were forced to hide again as Zacharias Smith and a Slytherin passed. He'd taken on the Prefect role when Ernie went into hiding and seemed to enjoy the power. Traitor.

We waited several more minutes, ready to go out when the two passed by again. If it hadn't been for Parkinson, we'd have Mrs Norris to help distract them or tell us if the coast was clear. But after what had happened to her, I couldn't ask for her help.

"What's the plan?"

I sighed heavily. "I don't know." However we decided to play this out, the chance of getting caught was high. There really wasn't a good option.

He slumped to the floor, clearly exhausted. "Do you want to know what I did to Carrow that pissed him off?"

"Is now really the time to talk about this?"

He shrugged. "We might not get a chance to talk about it later." He had a point. I took the spot on the floor next to him, remembering how only a few hours before we had been sitting the same way in the safety of the Room. "I told him that the only reason he believes in blood purity is because that's the only way he'll ever get laid."

"You didn't!"

He nodded, a proud smile on his face. "I did. Told him straight to his face. Then I disarmed him, hexed him, and ran. No idea where I was going to go, I'd only heard rumors about kids hiding. Got lucky that the door opened for me."

I laughed. It was such a stupid thing to do. "That...that is probably the dumbest reason of any of us. Merlin, McLaggen. To his face?"

He laughed with me. "Yeah, it was pretty dumb. But the look on his face? That was worth it." He bumped my shoulder. "What about you?"

The laughter died as I looked down at my fingers. "My dad got recognized when he was helping my friend, a Muggleborn, hide. Dean Thomas was with them when it happened and got a message to Seamus. Cho managed to get me before the Carrows heard about it." We still hadn't heard from Dean.

McLaggen let out a long, heavy breath. "My story seems even stupider than it did before."

"I like your story better, though," I said, bumping his shoulder. "Made me laugh." How long had it been since a guy had made me laugh?

"I'll take that, then." We sat in the silence for a few moments, surprisingly at ease considering our situation. "I think I owe you an apology."

"You think?"

"I know I owe you one. Or several maybe. I've been a dick. Especially with what I implied about the Weasleys. That was over the line." I surveyed his face, a sincere look of regret painting it. "And my pathetic attempts at flirting? I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable. With the sandwich, I wasn't saying that I was going kiss you, only that if I ever got the chance, I would. Who wouldn't? Still, it was a weird thing to say. Same for what I said in the closet. So, uh, I'm sorry for that."

"Has Cormac McLaggen gained self-awareness and accountability? You must really think we won't make it back," I said teasingly, despite that being my very real fear. We'd had two close calls this time and we were barely on the second floor.

"No, we'll make it. Whatever mess we get in, you'll think us out of. But when we do get back, I- I hope that maybe we could start over?"

If we get back. "I'd like that. When you're not being a complete wanker, you're actually kind of nice to talk to. Who knows, maybe we can even be friends." Sarah would be out of her mind if she heard me say that to him. She had tried to convince me to talk to him last year. Thought since George was gone and I didn't have any plans to pursue him, I should think about actually dating someone. And after rejecting the idea of dating anyone we actually knew, she thought McLaggen would be perfect. A tall, loud, Quidditch playing Gryffindor who enjoyed being the center of attention. _"He's just your type!"_ she had told me when we watched him play Keeper against the Hufflepuffs. I never entertained the thought, but she made sure to tell me anytime he was around.

"Friends," he said, his face reddening. "Does that mean I can't call you love anymore?"

"That is exactly what it means. This was...good. I'm glad we had this talk. But we should head out. The longer we're out, the more likely we'll run into someone."

"Or worse. Can you imagine running into Peeves? That'd be horrible."

"Yeah, that would be," I began to agree. Then a wonderfully reckless idea struck. "That would be perfect!"

"What?"

"Peeves! Peeves!" I called out, hopeful the poltergeist would have some superior hearing.

McLaggen looked at me frantically, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me," I said. "Peeves! Peeves, I need a favour!"

The little man and his bell covered hat appeared, floating upside down out of a suit of armor across from us. "Oh! If it isn't a little Ravenclaw out of bed! A Gryffindor too! What have you two been up to, hmm?"

"We need a favour."

He spun right side up, his hat somehow not making a sound. "And what makes you think I'm one to help? I think the professors would like to know about two naughty students sneaking out at night!"

"Because I have these," I said, holding out a small bag of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and a box labeled Portable Swamp. The poltergeist giggled happily, flying forward and snatching the items. "We need you to clear our way to the seventh floor." He hemmed and hawed, asking why he would do that if he already got what I had offered. "Because if you get us where we need to go, there's also a case of fireworks in it for you."

"Little Danky, who knew you were so much fun! My, my, I do believe I like you."

I smiled at him. "Feelings mutual, Peevey." He disappeared, a promise to be back in a few minutes to give us the details on everyone's location.

"Can we trust him?" McLaggen asked, checking around the corner again.

"Peeves is a lot of things, but he loves Hogwarts. Pretty sure he hates the Death Eaters more than we do. I'm sure he would have helped us even without the bribe. It's like with Zabini: the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

He shook his head at me. "You put too much trust in people. He's never done anything but cause trouble."

"I trust you and you've only ever been an arse."

He shot me an unappreciative look at the comparison, but didn't fight it. A couple minutes later and Peeves floated down from the ceiling, giving McLaggen a fright. He had scared off a couple student patrols and now we had a clear shot. Peeves would be our lookout until we got to safety. We decided it would be better to run for it like we had before. After all, the path was already clear and we had Peeves on our side. We cleared the second floor, then third, and then fourth. It wasn't until the fifth floor that things went wrong.

"Stupify!"

Peeves, who had been floating ahead of us, was struck by a red jet of light and went rigged. He dropped to the floor, only to disappear through it. McLaggen pulled me behind a statue as another flash of red shot past us.

My uncle's voice sounded from down the corridor. "Did you really think you could come out and I wouldn't find you? Peeves sings to himself! _Clear the way, clear the way. Danky's coming through!_ "

Fuck.

I tried to see where he was, but another spell sent me back behind the statue.

"Come on out, you filthy Half-Blood! We know your Blood Traitor father helped that little Mudblood! But it wasn't enough, was it?" he laughed. "He got too soft. Left his own daughter behind to hide a Mudblood. He let you suffer here all alone. Pathetic."

"Call a broom," I whispered to McLaggen, raising my wand. "I'll distract him. Get back to the room."

He grabbed my wrist. "I'm not going to leave you behind."

"He died on his knees, begging, you know? Tried to use the Carrow name to save himself."

I shook him off. "You are not going to risk the lives of everyone in that room for me. Call a broom and go. I'll - I'll be fine." He still refused as I heard the careful footsteps coming closer. "Cormac, please. There are children depending on you."

"I already mourned him, years ago. My brother was dead to me the day he had you."

"Brother? You're the niece he was talking about." His voice cracked, "I'm not going to leave you here. He said he'd kill you!"

I shut my eyes, a tear sliding down my cheek. There wasn't time to argue. We were out of options. "I'm sorry," I said.

"What are y-"

 _Imperio!_ I'd never done the curse before, but as he relaxed I knew it had worked. "You're going to summon a broom and get back to the others." With a growing knot in my stomach, I watched as he called for the broom. It zoomed into sight a moment later.

* **Warning***  
The following scene contains violent content. If you do not wish to read, skip until you see:  
********

"Trying to escape? Not this time! I'll have your head mounted in my office by the end of the night!" The statue exploded behind us and I forced him to go.

 _Bombarda!_ I shot in the direction I had heard his voice come from. He ducked away from the explosion, giving Cormac enough time to escape further up the stairs and out of sight. _Glisseo!_ The stairs turned flat, making it impossible for anyone to go up them. Cormac would be safe. Shooting off three more spells toward Amycus, I sprinted further down the corridor George had taken me down all the way in First Year.

Spells soon followed my footsteps. Yelling, cursing, and threats echoed against the walls as I searched for the secret stairway. Finally spotting the small witch statue that hid it, I rushed forward. I didn't get the chance to pull her finger, instead being thrown back as soon as I reached for it and hitting the wall. My body crumpled on the floor, pain emanating from where I'd smashed into the stone.

"Pretty stupid for a Ravenclaw, aren't you. We jinxed all the secret passageways and accesses," he sneered down at me, giving me a kick in the face. There was a crunch and something wet began seeping out of my nose. "Should have gone with your friend." He circled me while I tried not to cry out when he kicked me in the back.

There was something I was supposed to do. Something to protect the others. The agony of my injuries was clouding my mind and I couldn't think.

"Are you going to beg for your life?" Another kick. "Or maybe a quick death?" Kick. "No? Oh you will. _Crucio!_ "

Fire erupted in my veins. Knives I couldn't see slashed and stabbed. My lungs were squeezed and I felt as if I couldn't breath. Someone was screaming. It was if I was being torn apart and crushed.

Then it stopped.

My throat felt raw as I gulped down air. My body ached and stung. He stood over me, his face sneering down at me. "Beg! Beg just like your father did!"

"No."

He growled in frustration, using his foot to roughly shove me on to my stomach. " _Catomidio!_ "

The sting on the invisible lash was immediate. Then another. And another. And another. After the first few strikes I lost count, too focused on trying to remember how to breathe. They'd already broken the skin and fresh blood began to trickle across my back. And another.

And then nothing.

He'd done this before. Given me a lull where I think it's finally over and that I was safe, only for him to start again. If I moved or tried to look, he'd laugh at my hopefulness. I was too close to breaking already, having my last bits of hope would shatter what was left.

************

"Persephone!" Cormac's voice called out.

I tried to quell the joy I felt hearing him. It was a trick.

"Persephone!" he said again. I couldn't fight it anymore and I turned towards where I had heard him. "Persephone," he said breathlessly as he crouched down next to me. "Can you hear me? Did you take it? Please tell me you didn't take it."

"Take what? What are you -" The potion. I was supposed to bite down on the potion and I didn't. "No. No, I didn't."

"Thank Merlin," he whispered, "I thought - I thought...it doesn't matter. You're alive." A deep groan came from my left, where my uncle now laid sprawled out on the ground. "Come on, we have to go." He helped me to my feet, putting me on the broom with him behind me, apologizing profusely everytime I gasped in pain, and flew us to the safety of the Room.

We stumbled off the broom and I nearly fell down the stairs, causing Cormac to pick me up and carry me. Concerned faces meet us at the bottom. Angry questions and accusations were flung at Cormac as he carried me to the back meeting room where the day before we had volunteered to go out there. A cot appeared and he sat me gently down on my side, telling the others Amycus had gotten to me.

"And you let him?" Seamus shouted.

"Didn't have a choice," I said, coughing up blood over the side of the cot. "Used Imperious. Made him."

"Shhh, relax." Cormac wiped my mouth with his sleeve. "Help her. You can yell at me, hex me, whatever you want later. But help her first."

Hannah instructed the others, the four of them working together to mend my broken pieces. It was a long, painful process. The healing was nearly as bad as the tourture itself. Exhaustion took over at some point and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	21. Pictures In A Wallet

  
  
Three owls were waiting patiently outside my window when I got home. Audrey, Ginny, and Cho had sent letters to check up on me after the disastrous night. Writing them back, I let them know I was okay and told Audrey we could have dinner that night. It was plenty of time for me to go back to sleep. Sleep that didn't involve George holding me.

Pecking at the window pulled me out of near sleep. Who wrote back so quickly?

_See at noon!_

_Dean_

I had completely forgotten about our lunch plans today. It was something I was supposed to cancel or postpone, but it was too late for that now without being rude. Maybe it was a good thing. Another thing to get my mind off of last night and something else I could talk with Audrey about at dinner. I wrote back and asked if we could do lunch at the Hog's Head instead. Aberforth's Cottage Pie was the only thing that could make this day better.

A few minutes till, I Apparated into the small village. Not much had changed since my youth. All but one of the shops had reopened following the war and it had managed to stay fully intact. There had been many good memories made here and it was a comfort to know that it still stood much like it had before.

Dean greeted me warmly outside of Honeydukes and we walked together into the Hog's Head. Apparently Seamus had wanted to come along, but had gotten stuck at work. Despite how nervous I was, Dean was rather easy to talk to. Being around him was only ever a problem when he wanted to talk about the few months he had spent with Dad and Sarah, otherwise, we got on swimmingly.

"So," he said after Aberforth took our orders, "I have something for you." He pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

"Well, it's technically from Erasmus, er, uh, your dad." He slid across a black, bulky, leather square. A muggle wallet. Exactly like the one Dad had always carried around.

I gently picked it up, running my fingers over the outside before opening it. He hadn't really used it for its intended purpose. Instead, he used it as a place to put pictures so he could always have them. Inside the clear pocket, he put his favorite photo. Christmas Eve 1993. The last Christmas we were all together.

I had been complaining about wearing the matching sweaters for the picture before we took it, but Mum was insistent. She hated the sweaters too, but Dad loved them. After everything he had given up to be with her, she would do any silly thing that would make him happy. _"We're his only family now. He gave up so much for us, I think we can give him a cheesy photo and a couple hours in the sweaters."_ I envied the girl in the photo as she smiled up at her parents. She hadn't known that this would be the last time the three of them would get to take a photo together. She hadn't known the pain of losing them. She was still unscarred, unbroken, and filled with innocence.

I closed the wallet, blinking back tears. "Where did you get this?"

"When we were...found...your dad helped Sarah and I escape, but Sarah got separated. He made me hide, told me to bury anything important to me so the Snachthers wouldn't find it. Asked me to bury this with it. He left to find Sarah and he-" Dean stopped suddenly.  
My hand clasped over his. This conversation wasn't easy for him either.

"Seamus helped me find where I had buried everything about a year ago. I hadn't been able to go back before."

Guilt filled me as I realized that Dean had been trying to give this to me for months. He faced his own trauma to bring this little part of my father back to me and I hadn't given him the time of day. "Thank you, Dean. This means so much to me."

I wiped away the tears that had slid down my face as Aberforth brought out our lunches. Coming to the Hogshead had been a good choice. His Cottage Pie had been the first thing I ate in the days after their deaths.

"They talked about you a lot," Dean said before taking a bite of his chips. The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile as he chewed. "Erasmus and Ted were always bragging about you and Nymphadora. And you were in almost every story Sarah had."

A grin spread across my face. They missed me as much as I had missed them.

Dean chuckled. Dean chuckled, "You know, Sarah would probably be very happy that you're working with George."

"What?" I asked horrified, cheeks heating up. She didn't.

Dean tried hard to keep a straight face, but was failing miserably. "She, uh, may have mentioned a, uh, crush you had on him at Hogwarts. We were listening to Potterwatch and she was asking if I knew which twin was which over the radio. I didn't. She wished you were there because, according to her, you could always tell who was who since First Year when you - again, according to her - you had fallen head over heels in love with George."

My hands covered my face and I slunk into the booth, hoping it would swallow me whole. It didn't. "That witch!" The day I die (which may be coming soon due to the embarrassment) and we meet again in the afterlife, I would kill her for telling someone.

"I wasn't in love with him, it was a silly little crush I had when we were kids." A crush that had recently come back with a vengeance.  
Dean laughed. "Don't worry, I won't say anything." I had no doubts that he wouldn't share my secret with anyone. Dean was a good man.

We shared the pain of losing my dad and Sarah in ways no one else could understand. He had saved my life when he wrote to Seamus to get me to safety - my uncle wouldn't have had any hesitation in disposing of me.

"Thank you. There's already enough rumors without that getting out. And he'd never let me live it down if he found out."

The rest of lunch was quite pleasant. We avoided embarrassing and painful topics, sticking to things that were a little more lighthearted. I found that I truly enjoyed his company and the ease we were able to talk. Guilt reminded me that this conversation could have happened a long time ago if I hadn't been so stubborn. We ended with a promise to meet again soon.

That night, I met Audrey at her and Percy's shared apartment. Gratefully, he had gone out with a few friends for the night and it was just the two of us. She fretted over me the moment I walked in, rewording the same question over and over: Are you okay?

"Honestly, I'm fine," I reassured her. She scrutinized me, unbelieving.

Honestly, I wasn't fine, but it had little to do with Cormac. It hurt. It hurt a lot last night, and even this morning. But it was a hurt that dulled quickly and left nothing more than a bitter taste. Now I was just disappointed with him. I had never known him to be vulgar or vile and to see him try to stoop so low lost any remaining respect I had for him.

George, however, had been haunting every thought since I left lunch.

"I'm sorry, Persephone. If I hadn't pushed you to go out, none of that ever would have happened." She looked absolutely miserable.  
My laugh startled her. "I had fun last night. Yeah, it ended pretty badly, but that isn't anyone's fault but Cormac's. And he paid a pretty hefty price for it." A smile tugged at my lips. He'd been hit by several spells - most likely hexes and jinxes - by some very talented witches and wizards. Ginny's was probably the worst. Hopefully he enjoyed spending the New Year in St. Mungo's.

She smiled back at me, relieved. "I'm glad you had fun. Maybe we should do it again - sans loser exes."

It was a little past ten when I popped into Horsham, fueled by the wine Audrey had offered me. Not much had changed in the week since I'd been there last. Most homes still had their lights up and on and snow still littered the ground. Yet my outlook on the world had changed drastically.

I wasn't alone anymore. I stopped pushing people away. People cared about me and worried about me. The toxic relationship I had clung to in fear for over three years no longer had any pull on me. Even though everything with George complicated matters, I was happy.

My parent's house - my house now - still stood dark, but the full moon illuminated the details I had easily missed. Overgrown weeds peeked through the snow, dead grass was matted around the edges of the house, several parts of the fence surrounding the lawn were broken or missing, and the stairs were layered in dust and grime. The house had fallen in disrepair thanks to my neglect.

The neighborhood was entirely Muggle, so fixing it with magic wasn't an option. They were all far too nosy to not notice such a change. No, it'd have to be fixed their way.  
As I was mentally calculating how much time it would take for me to pull the weeds if I started right then, my old neighbor Mrs. Peters came out. "Oh, Persephone! How good to see you, my dear!" She approached me tightly wrapped in her coat, a broad smile on her face. She was much older, a grandmother to kids only a few years my junior, but she had never lost any of her energy.

"Hi, Mrs. Peters. It's good to see you, too."

"What are you doing out here so late? Has living in London messed with your sense of time?" She half teased. Any time past nine was considered late to her.

"I was actually coming to survey the damage to the house. Seems like it's time I fix it. Mum would be distraught if she ever knew how bad I let it get."

Mrs. Peters gazed at the house. "It certainly is time to clean it up. Some of the others on the street have tried to do it themselves, calling it an eyesore. I didn't let them touch it, of course. It wouldn't have been right to do it before you were ready." She never was one to beat around the bush. "But now that you are, I think the gardening club would very much enjoy helping out here."

Relief washed over me. I wouldn't have to do this alone either. "That would be lovely," I said.  
She nodded. "I'll let them know tomorrow, we have a meeting in the evening."

"Thank you."

She wished me a good night and set back off to her own home next door, probably very happy that she could finally stop living next to a dilapidated house. There was no doubt in my mind that she had chased off several of our other neighbors, but that didn't mean she didn't hate it just as much as they did.

The outside would at least be taken care of. Now I had to worry about the inside. At least there I could use some magic with closed curtains. Before I could fix it, however, I actually needed to step inside. Bouncing on my heels, I debated if I should go in now or come back. If I don't go in now, I probably never will.

The weight of the wallet in my jacket gave me the last bit of strength I needed to push myself to walk through the door.


	22. The Damage of Rita Skeeter

In my entire twenty two years of living, I had never been late. Not once. Even after being literally tortured, I still managed to make it to class on time. But today I was running late. My watch let me know that I was running thirty seven minutes late to be exact. Wonderful.

I rushed into the office just as George was putting on a coat. "Where have you been? I was getting worried and about to go looking for you!" He said, embracing me tightly.

"I'm sorry. I got home late and forgot to set my alarm," I said. My voice was muffled by his well toned chest. Did he get a new detergent?

He pulled back and opened his mouth before promptly closing it. "I'm glad you're safe. I thought something horrible had to have happened. You've never been late," he finally said.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

The rest of the day, I did everything I could to be busy. Fulfilled orders, paid invoices, went over the logbook, checked payroll. Anything that could be an excuse not to talk. George was whisked away early to help out in the shop. People were always eager to see him.

Eventually he did return to the office, with only an hour before I was out. I tried to focus on the numbers in front of me, but drowsiness was blurring them all together.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Tired, is all."

He was quiet for a moment, but I could hear his foot tapping as he swirled his quill. "Did you go out last night?"

"No," I rubbed my eyes, "I was at my parents' house trying to clean it up." Technically, everything was clean now. I had gotten rid of all the dust and cobwebs with a couple of spells. But it was going to be a long process to do everything else. There was so much stuff to sort through, but it felt wrong to do it all magically. Dad had embraced so many ways of the muggle world, he was owed this last honor.

"Why?"

Before I could explain the meeting with Dean, Hermione and Ron walked through the door. They both seemed rather tense.

Hermione cut off George's greeting, "McLaggen's going to try to press charges."

That fucking bastard. Of course he would. "He's really going to try to take on a bunch of highly respected witches and wizards? After what he did? After what he said? The press will eat him alive. He'll drop it when he realizes it will destroy his reputation." He'd drop it by the end of the week.

"He's actually only filed a complaint against one of us," Ron said. He looked straight at George.

A few very vulgar threats slipped out of my mouth as I went to storm out of the office. I was done with Cormac and his petty shit. He did not get to stroll in and make the lives of those around me miserable because they were better company than him.

George grasped my wrist before I could walk out the door. "Where are you going?"

"To get him to drop this. I'm not going to let him drag your name in the mud." He didn't let go as I tugged my hand away.

"You can't do that," Hermione said. "He could try to claim intimidation and it could make things worse."

Son of a... "So I'm just supposed to sit back and let him attack George? Do you know what this could do to the store?" My eyes pleaded with George, hoping he would see reason and let me go. It wouldn't be intimidation if I got him to drop the claim.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Seph. Let him try. Like you said, it'll ruin his reputation. We'll be okay." He seemed resolved. How could Cormac do this to him? To me? "Promise me you won't do anything about it."

Feeling defeated, I agreed.  
  
  


I didn't get much sleep that night either. A few hours had been spent tossing and turning, and when sleep finally found me, a very vivid dream of George being thrown into Azkaban woke me. That's how I found myself at my parents' house before the sun even rose. If I couldn't sleep, I'd be productive.

It didn't work very well for a distraction and I found myself on the verge of storming into the loft I had once shared with Cormac and giving him a piece of my mind. Just because he had made up this idea of me being in a relationship with George, didn't mean he could try to mess it up. Imaginary or not, he didn't get to decide how I lived my life or who I chose to live it with.

Instead, I went to work. At least there George could keep an eye on me when he got in. It was early, so he wasn't there yet. No one was. I busied myself with any and every task I could find until Naenia came in. She looked at me as if I was a nutter when I greeted her. I slinked into the office, not knowing what I had done to deserve such a bizarre greeting.

It felt like an eternity before George showed up looking grim. It wasn't right that someone who had just started enjoying his life again was being pushed back into a corner.

"Did you see the article?" he asked. Oh no.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Cormac already went to the press? How bad is it?"

"It's not about that, but it's, um, it's not good." George pulled out a copy of Witches Weekly and set it down in front of me. My face was staring right back at me. It looked like someone had taken it the day of the launch. _"The Gryffindor Seeker"_ stood in scarlet letters above the photo.

The article started on page sixteen under the same caption, but also had three additional photos. They were all of me. The first was an old photo of Cormac and I that was taken for work. The next one was of George spinning me around while I held him tightly, the two of us smiling. That one was also taken the day of the launch. The third was Dean and I sitting in the booth at the Hog's Head.

> _Persephone Dankworth, former agent for the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells, seems to have an affinity for former Gryffindor Quidditch Players. Miss Dankworth, a fairly average-looking young woman, was recently at the center of a very public bar fight between her former lover Cormac McLaggen and new beau George Weasley. While it's unclear exactly what transpired between the three during the New Year's Eve brawl, eye-witnesses tell us that she and Mr. Weasley left together and she was spotted leaving his loft the following morning in the same ill-fitting dress as the night before._
> 
> _It seems, however, that two men fighting over her is not enough for Miss Dankworth, as she was spotted that very same day having lunch with Dean Thomas, the shopkeeper at Flourish and Blott's. There, they were seen laughing and holding hands and departed with the promise to see one another very soon. One can only imagine the pain poor Mr. Weasley must be feeling._

The article continued for a few more paragraphs, but I couldn't bear to read anymore. I had never been the center of attention, I had actively avoided it for my entire life, and knowing that hundreds of people would be reading this made me feel nauseous. Knowing people would believe that I was some kind of homewrecking harlot leading on two beloved members of the community made me actually vomit into the trash can next to the desk. Had she done any research, she'd have seen at least one of her accusations was impossible.

George was quick to rush to my side, holding back my hair as I lost the little food I had eaten in the past twelve hours and offering me a tissue once it was all out.

"Why would someone write this?" I asked, mostly to myself. My life wasn't something to be written about, it was unexceptional and dull. The only interesting thing about it was where I worked, but that wasn't even mentioned. No, just like Cormac, they had created these imaginary relationships and slandered my previously non-existent reputation.

"It's by Rita Skeeter, she's a horrible woman. Just ask Hermione." Of course it was Rita Skeeter. The lady liked to bash fourteen year olds, it shouldn't be surprising that she'd still be watching their circle for any interesting news. Instead she found me. "Did you want to take the day off?"

"No. I can't trust myself alone today, I nearly went to Cormac's this morning. Besides, hiding won't make the article go away." It'd probably make it worse if I didn't continue on as normal.

"So how do we handle this?" My face must have betrayed my confusion because he clarified, "People are going to ask if we're dating. Same with you and Dean."

"Oh."

"So, are you, um, dating Dean?"

I scoffed, "You don't know about Dean and Seamus? They've been dating for almost a year now. Dean and I had lunch so he could give me this. It was my dad's. They were together right before the...right before he died." George held the wallet carefully as he opened it, pausing briefly to look at the photo inside, and closed it.

"Okay. I'll let the clerks know that the article is rubbish. Ginny has a couple of friends at the Prophet, maybe they can run a counter article or something. Lee can also make a statement, if I go now I can catch him before the show."

George was such an amazing person. Here he was trying to fix all my problems even though I had caused so many for him. "I'll talk to the clerks and send an owl to Ginny. Just see if you can catch Lee."

"Okay, I'll be back soon." He got up to leave, but stopped. "It'll be okay, I promise." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, much like he had Christma Eve, and left to catch Lee.

The flutter in my heart was readily ignored as I set off to try to minimize the damage of Rita Skeeter.


	23. A Public Assualt

The aftermath of the article wasn't as bad as I had assumed it would be. Ginny was able to write and publish an article calling out Skeeter and her lies throughout the years with the help of her friends at the Prophet. Lee had blasted the article on his show and encouraged his listeners not to listen to any of it - there was no love triangle or betrayal and we were all good friends. Dean and I had run into each other during our lunches that same day, both heading to check on the other. Even Seamus stopped by the shop and had a good laugh. A dozen or so people had either sent an owl or stopped by the shop to offer their support. Hermione had even taken some time off of work to help me with writing my own response that Witch Weekly had (under threat of a case of defamation) agreed to publish in the next issue in conjunction with a retraction from Skeeter that she had surprisingly agreed to write. She also helped me look into our legal options with Cormac's possible case against George.

There had been a few stares and whispers when people saw me, but nothing extreme. The only real negative impact had been that George had seemed to distance himself. He was barely in the office, or even at the store. And his excuses, while believable, were too convenient. Mrs. Weasley needed help de-gnoming the garden. Arthur wanted him to go on a trip to help find something. He was sick. He had to visit his aunt.

I didn't blame George for wanting the space, I had made his life pretty difficult recently, and it was what I had wanted originally. But that didn't stop the knot forming in my stomach every time he said his hasty goodbyes.

Ginny invited me out to the Falmouth Falcons vs. Wigtown Wanderers game that Saturday since Harry wasn't able to go, though I suspected that he was perfectly able to attend. I was never coordinated enough to play Quidditch myself, in fact, I had fallen off of so many brooms in my youth that I had sworn off flying alone, nor was I ever a super fan. My mum, however, was and we had gone to many games together. If she knew I would one day be friends with a Holyhead Harpie, she'd have probably fainted.

"So," Ginny started after one of the Falcons' Chasers missed an easy pass, "how is George doing now that they've set a trial date?"

"They've set a trial date?" The crowd erupted in cheers as the Wanderers got the Quaffle past the opposing Keeper and through the middle post.

"Yeah, Harry said Wizengamot sent George a letter a couple days ago about it." Ginny wasn't paying attention to the action of the game, but seemingly following empty air.

He hadn't told me anything about receiving a trial date or receiving a letter from Wizengamot. "He's been pretty busy the last few days, I really haven't seen him. I'm sure he's doing just fine, though."

The match ended 320 - 130 in favor of the Wigtown Wanderers after their Seeker caught the Snitch. Back in my apartment, I was left wondering why George hadn't told me about the letter and trial. Did he not want me to worry? Or did he not want me involved?

That second option tightened the knot and left me unable to sleep again. I tossed and turned, contemplating whether or not I should ask him about it or wait for him to tell me. When I'd had enough of wallowing in my own self-pity, I decided to make something I probably should have made a while ago.

Following the final battle, I hadn't been able to sleep due to nightmares and paranoia. Even with the aid of Sleeping Draught, I'd wake up screaming or shooting off spells. After one particularly nasty night where I'd set Cormac on fire, I decided to mix in a few extra ingredients from the Draught of Peace when I made a new batch. It took a handful of tries, but eventually I got it just right. The new potion calmed the drinker before lulling them into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. I had creatively named it the Sleeping Draught of Peace.

It took a few hours to brew, not giving me a chance to use it that night, but at least I'd have some on hand for the next time. It also gave me the perfect excuse to talk to George. With all the stress, he might be having issues sleeping too. I'm sure he could use a bottle or two.

At a socially acceptable time (not four-thirty in the morning when I had thought of the plan) I knocked on George's door with some of the potion. After a couple of minutes and no response, I had to debate whether or not to barge in like I had many times before. Halfway down the steps, however, George opened the door.

"Persephone?"

I waved awkwardly, realizing he had been in the shower and I'd probably have seen him in his towel again if I had walked in. "Mornin'."  
He waved me inside to our usual spot in the kitchen, where he offered me coffee. "Surprised you didn't barge in on me," he said, setting down a mug in front of me. His mouth twitched into a quick smile before disappearing.

I took a sip before replying, "Didn't want anyone reading into it, in case someone was watching, you know?"

"Oh. Guess it's a good thing I got dressed before I answered the door then, eh?" he chuckled. "So what brings you by, Seph?"

The two small bottles clanked as I pulled them from my pocket and put them down next to his own cup of coffee. "I've been having trouble sleeping. Figured you might be as well, so I made something that might help."

He examined the potion. "Sleeping Draught?" His voice seemed unsure, the potion being a bluer shade of purple than the typical Sleeping Draught.

"Kind of. It's my own recipe. A mix of Sleeping Draught and Draught of Peace. Mimics natural sleep a bit better."

George looked thoughtful. "So a Sleeping Draught of Peace?"

I grinned. "That's the working title, yeah."

He pushed the bottles to the side, thanking me for them. With a quick glance at his watch, he let me know he needed to head out. According to him, he had to help his mum degnome the garden. Again. Of course he did.

It was clear George was lying to me. Gnomes always wait two weeks before reinfesting gardens. It made focusing on work hard, but I pulled it together enough to finish designing the marketing material for Valentine's Day. A few deals on love potions for those wanting romance and Skiving Snackbox for those wanting chaos.

The shop floor offered some relief from my constant worries and questions. Here, I could distract myself with mindless tasks or helping customers. And when things were slow, Bini and I could talk about his upcoming trip to Bulgaria to visit one of his friends. It was going wonderfully until I saw a familiar person walking past the shop.

With a rushed apology to Bini, I followed the person down the street and around a lesser traveled side-street. "Cormac!"

He stopped and turned in surprise.

"You vile, pathetic prick. How dare you! You have no right to meddle in my life anymore!"  
He gave me a smirk and crossed his arms as I approached. "He hexed me in a public place with several witnesses. It has nothing to do with you."

I scoffed. "It has everything to do with me and you know it. At least ten others did as well, but you're not filing charges against them! Just the one you're jealous of!" The one who matters the most to me. His only response was a shrug.

My fist slammed itself into his face. It wasn't a fantastic punch, I'd never actually tried to hit anyone before, but it connected with a decent smack. Cormac hadn't expected it and had made no effort to block it. He cradled his face, blood coming out of his nose, and looked as if I had Stunned him.

"There! Now I've assaulted you in a public place, are you going to press charges against me?" He was speechless, mouth hanging open.

"If you want to try to take George on, go ahead. Just know that he won't be fighting it alone. When I give my testimony, I'll be sure to tell the truth about everything. And I mean _everything_ , Cormac. Let's see how far your name gets you then."

I pointed at his face, his blood a stark contrast on my skin. "And I swear, if you ever, _ever_ lay a hand on me again, I'll make you miss the Carrows."

He didn't get a chance to respond as I left him in the alley and headed straight back to the shop. The adrenaline faded quickly and, oh Merlin, did my hand hurt. The reality of what I had just done also set in with the pain. How much worse had I made George's situation?

Bini was quite distressed when I returned with blood on my hand, but I didn't have time to explain. I needed to talk to George. He let me go, warning me I owed an explanation, and I Disapparated to the Burrow. George wasn't in the garden and there were no sounds of gnomes being thrown. I scurried up to the house, calling for George. Mrs. Weasley greeted me instead.

"Is George here?" I asked breathlessly.

"No dear, he's over in Hogsmeade at the old joke shop. Are you alright? Oh my! Is that blood-"

I shook my head. "I need to talk with George. Thank you!" I Disapparated again.

Zonko's windows were still boarded up, but the door was no longer covered. "George!" I called out as I burst through it.

He was standing behind the counter when I barged in. "Seph? What are you -"

"I punched Cormac in the face!" I blurted out, holding up the hand smeared with red.

His eyebrows shot up. "You did what?"

"I was talking with Bini and I saw Cormac pass by the window, so I chased after him and confronted him about the whole trial thing and he just shrugged like it was no big deal so I punched him in the face." My words were rushed and my hands gestured frantically. "And I also may have threatened him. And my hand really fucking hurts. And I'm so sorry!" Every time I waved my hand around, it hurt more, but I couldn't stop.

George grabbed the wrist of my reddened hand gently and waved his wand over it quietly. The blood disappeared and there was instant relief. I flexed it, relishing the feeling of not being in pain.

"Okay, Seph. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down for me, okay?"

I did as he asked, breathing in and out slowly.

"Now, you punched McLaggen in the face?"

I nodded.

"And made him bleed?"

I nodded again.

He laughed, "That's bloody amazing! Oh, and you threatened him? I remember you being pretty handy with your hexes. He must be shitting his pants!" He laughed like it was the most brilliant thing in the world to have done, instead of incredibly stupid like it actually was.

"He could try to use it against you."

"I hope he does! The entire wizarding world should know that you punched the insufferable git! I only wish I'd gotten to see it!" He stared at me in amazement, running his hand through his hair. "Did he cry?"

He should have been upset, furious even, that I had possibly made life harder than it already was. But he was proud of me. He thought it was bloody amazing. "No, he just stood there with his mouth hanging open."

Cormac would be a problem for another today. For now, we could spare a few laughs at his expense. Without guilt weighing me down, I could admit that it had made me feel much better. And opened up the room to ask other questions.

"Why are you here?"

George was slow to react to the question. "Oh, um, well. It was supposed to be a surprise." He lifted his arms up and looked around at the empty shop. "We're expanding!"


	24. Valentine's Day

"You bought Zonko's?" I asked excitedly. I'd heard rumors of him and Fred wanting to do just that back before the war, but it never came to fruition.

He wavered. "Leasing it, actually. Gringotts wants to see steady profits before they'll give me the loan." The shop had only been operating in green for a couple months now, it wasn't a surprise the bank wanted to wait.

"This is great, George!" He hadn't been avoiding me after all.

He beamed with pride as he showed me the plans he had drawn up for the layout. We walked around the shop and he pointed out where some of his favorite items used to be stocked, telling me stories of his favorite pranks. He wanted to pay homage to the memories Zonko's had given him and planned to make a section dedicated to those items named Zonko's Zany Zone.

"Let me show you the best part," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me up the stairs.

Past the door at the top was a room with a window that spanned the entire wall, giving a breathtaking view of Hogwarts as it sat covered in snow. The window must have been concealed by magic on the outside, as it's location would have been impossible to miss. Caught up in the beauty, I hadn't realized that George was still holding my hand until he pulled me closer towards the window.

"Gorgeous, eh?"

"Yeah," I said softly.

"The bedroom has a magnificent view as well."

Tearing my eyes away from the window, I could see that the room was actually quite a large space with a kitchen taking up one of the walls. Two doors stood opposite of the kitchen, one presumably being a bathroom and the other the bedroom he had spoken of. "It's an apartment."

He gave me a sheepish smile. "Your apartment. That is, if you want it, of course."

"You want to give me an apartment?"

He rocked on his heels. "Yeah, I know I promised you a raise, and you are gonna get one, but with the lease payments...it's not gonna be as much as I think you deserve. And your apartment now is horribly depressing."

An offended gasp escaped my lips. "It's not depressing."

"You barely have space to move around in there. I had more space sharing a room with Fred at the Burrow than you do now. You barely even have a window!"

Maybe it was a little depressing. This place could easily fit it three times over and I hadn't even seen the bedroom yet. "Don't we need an office here?"

"There's a small one downstairs behind the counter."

I bit my lip, trying to think if there were any other objections I could throw out, but there wasn't. This place was perfect. Big, fantastic view, and free. George watched me as I walked around the space, a bit impatient for my response.

"Well?"

It was more fun to draw out the wait than to answer right away. "Well...I think," I gave an ample pause to help build the tension, "I think it's perfect. I love it."

His smile could have lit up a room.

"But I think we should have an office space up here. It'd be a waste of a view if I kept it all to myself."  
  


Valentine's Day had to be my least favorite holiday. It shouldn't even really be considered a holiday worthy of celebration. Or maybe I was just bitter that I didn't actually have someone to spend it with this year. Either way, George and I had ensured the clerks had the day off to spend how they wanted since neither of us had any plans anyway.

It had been a slow day and we had spent most of it horsing around. There were still a few joke products that I hadn't tried out yet and he had convinced me that it wouldn't be too bad. After trying one of the Ton-Tongue Toffees, I only agreed to continue if he would do it with me.

That's how we both wound up with extraordinarily large noses when a group of young women walked into the store. George, a man of little reservations, greeted them merrily and caused them to giggle. They browsed around the front of the store, making sure to keep the front counter in sight and whispering to each other. It became obvious rather quickly that they were not there for the products.

One of them called George over, claiming she had a question about the Sugar Quills - one of the most common wizarding sweets sold at nearly every shop. He seemed rather pleased with himself as he answered the question and continued to chat with them about any trivial thing they mentioned. No, he wasn't chatting. He was _flirting_.

My eyes rolled as he winked at one of them. I escaped to the back of the store so I wouldn't have to continue watching the exchange. I shouldn't feel jealous. There was nothing romantic between George and I. He was my boss and I was his slightly too dedicated employee. He had the right to flirt with whoever he wanted.

Logic isn't known to mix well with feelings. Despite being acutely aware of these facts, the green demon didn't disappear. Instead, it showed me what each girl would look like if they were to suddenly sprout oozing pustules all over their faces. That image did make me feel slightly better.

A tap on my shoulder pulled me from my daydream with a small shriek. I grasped my rapidly beating heart as Dean apologized for sneaking up on me. "It's fine, I was just lost in thought," I said with a smile.

"Dreaming of that new view?" He asked with a laugh. He'd gotten to see my new apartment after our last lunch the week prior and had been as enamoured with it as I had. "Or about a hot date tonight?"

I laughed. My 'date' for the night would be a large tub of ice cream and a book. "I don't celebrate Valentine's Day." Not anymore.

"It's a pretty silly holiday, isn't it?" He gave a half smile as he looked away, pulling a small box out of his robe. "But chocolates are great on any day of the year." He handed me the red, heart-shaped box that was only meant for one day out of the year.

"Thanks, Dean." Is that the right thing to say when someone gives you Valentine's Day chocolate?

"Seamus and I wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. We're going to this muggle restaurant his cousin runs."

My eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "You want me to third wheel on your Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend?"

"Well," he said rubbing the back of his head, "you wouldn't really be third wheeling. His cousin, Liam, will probably join us for a bit. He knows about the whole magic thing and he's super nice."

There it was. "And let me guess, you and Seamus have some fake emergency planned that will leave Liam and I alone for the rest of dinner?"

He sighed, realizing he'd been caught. "Look, Liam is a good guy. He's heard about you, saw your photo - he thinks you're pretty, by the way - and he'd really love to meet you. We thought, maybe it would be good for you to meet someone who didn't go through everything we did. Kind of start over, you know?"

"Dean, I appreciate you and Seamus looking out for me. But I'm not ready to date or meet anyone new. So thank you, but no."

I gave his arm a squeeze and walked him to the front of the store. He wished me a Happy Valentine's Day and left with a friendly hug. He'd written down the place and time in case I changed my mind. It would be nice to go. Maybe a Muggle would be a nice change of pace. But it didn't seem right to go on a date with the guy when I was infatuated with my boss.

"What did he want?" George's voice startled me, causing another shrill shriek to slip out.

"What is it with people sneaking up on me today? Merlin, my heart can only handle so much." Once more, it was pounding rapidly. "He just came by to give me some chocolates - ones that won't cause me to sprout warts."

He crossed his arms, laughed, and held up the card with the info Dean had given me. " Then what's with the restaurant reservation?" The cocky grin he wore was the exact same one he had had when he was talking with the group that was still circling like vultures.

My eyes rolled, annoyed with George. "He wants me to go on a date with Seamus's cousin."

His face slipped out of his smug expression as he asked, "You're not going to go, are you?"

"I'm not. I know they're looking out for me and I'm very lucky to have them as friends, but I'm not ready to date anyone." Something caused the vultures to giggle quite loudly across the shop, looking at George as if he were the last piece of Treacle Tart. "I think you're fangirls want you back. I'm sure they'd love to sprout some warts with you," I told him viciously. I didn't wait for any response and fled to the office.

Again, I knew I was being completely unreasonable in my aggravation, but it wasn't something I could help. My feelings for him weren't going away, they were getting stronger. Seeing him giving me the same looks he gave other girls hurt in ways I couldn't fully explain. I wanted to be special to him, to be different from everyone else. Even though I knew that we couldn't be together, I still wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him.

But he didn't.


	25. The Neighborhood Busybody

George didn't bother me until about an hour before close. "Seph?"

"Yes, George?" I replied, not looking up from the logbook. Even with the new lease payments and my humble raise, the shop was still doing well and building up a nice cushion again.

"I was thinking we close up early."

I reached for yet another chocolate, half the box already gone. "Got a hot date you want to get to?"

He pulled his chair out from the desk, letting it scratch against the floor. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I grabbed another chocolate.

"Did I say something? Did Dean?"

With a sigh, I put down the quill. I'm in love with you, idiot! I wanted to shout. "No," I said, only half lying, "I'm just over today. Sorry if I was abrasive."

"If?" He chuckled. "I've met dragons with less fire than you had earlier. Almost thought about owling Charlie for some advice."

I bit my hand trying to stifle a laugh, but I wasn't able to hide my amusement. George smiled victoriously. "Now, come on. I've already closed up downstairs."

"And where exactly are we going?" I asked.

He gave a wink. "Your house."

He really did mean my house.

George wanted to see my parents home, claiming I had seen the place he grew up and it was only fair that he got to see where I had. If it wasn't for the fact that the house looked nearly like it had all those years ago, thanks to the help of Mrs. Peters' gardening club, I would have said no.

Not only had they cleaned up the entire yard, but they planted flowers and even painted the house a new shade of blue. Dad would be very upset to hear me say that it looked even better than it had when he had cared for it.

"You're telling me you had your own room?" George seemed scandalized as I showed him my old bedroom. Thankfully, I'd already gone through and cleaned it recently so nothing too embarrassing was out. Though my poster of The Weird Sisters dressed as unicorns was still stuck to one of the walls.

He spent a moment looking around the room, honing in on my bookshelf. His finger traced the edges of books as he intently perused the titles. Seemingly unsatisfied, he pulled out his wand and waved it. Nothing happened. "Did you not have a diary?" he asked.

"No! Is that honestly what you were looking for?" I scoffed at him.

He shrugged. "I thought every girl had a diary. Ginny did until she went to Hogwarts."

A pillow from my bed flew across the room and hit George in the head. "You read your sister's diary? That's horrible!"

He threw the pillow back at me, but I managed to dodge it while gathering all the additional pillows from my bed for ammunition. Dad had always mocked me for the amount of pillows I had, telling me I'd never need so many. Well Dad, you were wrong.

My early victory was short lived. George had incredible aim and I was pelted relentlessly any time he got a hold of the pillows. It probably wasn't smart to start a pillow fight with a former Beater. I tried to flee out the door, but he wasn't going to let me escape so easily and tried to grab my arm. I managed to avoid it, but ended up tripping in the process. He tried to catch me and instead fell along with me.

We tumbled for a moment before finally landing next to each other in the hallway. We were both red from laughing and every time we tried to speak, we just ended up laughing more. When I thought he wasn't looking, I grabbed a pillow he had dropped and tried to hit him with it. His reflexes were too good for it though. He caught my wrist before it could make an impact and rolled on top of me, trapping both of my arms above my head.

He looked down at me and our laughter was quickly silenced. The sound of my heart was suddenly very loud as his eyes bore into mine. Was he getting closer? My eyes darted from his, landing on his lips. They weren't particularly big, but they were very pink and very tempting.

The doorbell rang, pulling me back into reality. I scrambled out from underneath a now confused George, down the stairs, and to the door. Waiting outside was Mrs. Peters.

"Hi, Mrs. Peters."

She gave me a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes as she surveyed me. "Hello darling, I saw the lights on and wanted to check in with you."

"Oh, yes. I'm - I'm - uh, I'm fine. Just, um, you know, organizing and whatnot," I said, trying very hard to look casual.

"It's a bit late, isn't dear?" She asked, despite the sun having just gone down the hour before. She looked behind me as I heard George come down the stairs and I felt my face redden even more than it already must have been. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company!"

Mrs. Peters wasn't as good at lying as she was at being nosy. "Oh yes, right.This is, um, this is George. We work together, went to that same boarding school, too. Even were in a club together. Great bloke. And, um, yeah. Just showing him the house and, uh, whatnot."

She took in his appearance, staring just a little longer on his hair and clearly rustled appearance. To his credit, he didn't seem fazed at all as he joined us and properly introduced himself. I got the chance to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wished I hadn't. My hair was an absolute disaster. Oh Merlin, what was she thinking we were doing?

We chatted uncomfortably for a few minutes more, mostly small talk about the gardening club being nearly done with the outside. "Well," she said, "I think I've taken up enough of your time. I'll leave you two so you can get back to organizing and whatnot."

She lingered for a second more, really driving home that she thought we were up to some very devious whatnot.

We wished her a good night and I shut the door. My head smacked against it, deeply embarrassed. This would be the second time that gossip about George and I would be out in the world but this time in the Muggle world. "Bloody hell," I told the door.

George began sniggering behind me.

"What are you laughing about?"

He replied, "You're gonna be the talk of the town tomorrow! Bringing home a devilishly handsome fellow only to be thwarted by your elderly busybody neighbor!" He was much more amused about this than I was.

"Oy, shut it, Weasley! It's not funny! These people have known since I was in diapers, you're lucky she didn't drag Mr. Peters into this! He'd have brought his cane with him, he's spry for his age!"

He winked. "I could take 'em."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Let's go then. I don't want to give them any more to gossip about!"


	26. The Queen & A Ruby

The incident at my house wasn't mentioned in the following days. I'd spent far too many nights dreaming of what would have happened if Mrs. Peters hadn't shown up. Would he have kissed me?

Part of me wanted George to bring it up, to confess his love for me and whisk me off my feet to our happily ever after. But his silence on the matter meant he didn't feel that way for me. That night had been a fluke, the result of a combination of being alone on Valentine's Day and physical exertion that had our hearts pumping.

He'd also been spending more time with Angelina. Every few days, she'd end up at the shop in Diagon Alley. Sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. George even invited her along to Hogsemede one of the days we were organizing some of the inventory we had gotten.

The worst part was that I couldn't even dislike her for it. She was kind, thoughtful, funny, and absolutely beautiful. She had also become a friend to me.

She and I were coming back from a brief lunch at the Leaky Cauldron one chilly February day when we ran into Cho.

"Persephone!" She called out from further down the street. "Oh, I'm so happy I ran into you! I just talked with George and he was going to tell you, but I really wanted to talk to you in person!" She took a deep, excited breath before continuing, "The Ministry isn't going to decrease funding. In fact, so many people were opposed they've decided to help me expand the program. With the extra funding and the donations that we've gotten, we'll be able to do so much more for the families and kids!"

We hugged each other as she told me the great news. "That's great, Cho!"

She pulled back, not bothering to wipe the tears that had started streaming from her face. "It's all because of you! If you hadn't told George and he hadn't gone on and talked about it on Lee's show, we wouldn't have gotten the public's attention. We'd have had everything cut, we'd barely be scrapping by."

I wanted to tell her that George was really the one she should be thanking, that it had been his idea entirely, but she wasn't done. "And to celebrate, we're going to have a gala! It's going to be at Hogwarts the Saturday before Easter, Minerva already approved. Aberforth and Rosmerta are going to help with the food and drinks. And you are going to be our Guest Speaker!"

"Oh, that's exciting!" Angelina said.

I looked at Cho, very much not excited. "I love the gala, love it being at Hogwarts. But I- I don't think I can speak at it."

"Why?" They asked in unison.

"Because I'm not exactly great at public speaking for one. I struggled to answer questions in class for years because it made me anxious! I can't imagine speaking to an entire crowd of people without being nauseous." My stomach was already growing queasy. "Besides, what would I even talk about?"

Cho was ready to accept this, looking disappointed, but nodding in understanding. Angelina, however, was not.

"It's a good thing you have me, then! I've probably given dozens of speeches in my life, I can help you with that. Plus, there's this wonderful little potion called a Calming Draught that will take away that dreadful feeling."

This caused Cho to look hopeful once more. "But...I don't even know what I would talk about."

Cho moved in closer, lowering her voice so only the three of us could hear it. "You could talk about your family. All of them. Sarah, too."

"I- I don't know."

Angelina put her arm around me in support. She didn't know the entire story, but she must have recognized that it didn't have a happy ending.

"Just think about it. You went through so much, I think your story deserves to be told. Even I still have nightmares about what I saw and it wasn't nearly as bad. You could really give people hope when they see how far you've been able to go." Cho gave a comforting squeeze of my arm.

I forced a smile. "I'll think about it, okay?"

Two days later, I still hadn't made a decision. To be fair, I didn't have much time to think about it since we were opening the Hogsmeade location today and that required most of my attention.

George had feared that the shop would flop, but that fear was quickly forgotten as we were swarmed with students the entire day. The profits we made from just our first five hours would cover the cost of the lease for a couple of months. Lewis stopped by shortly before closing to congratulate us on the shop and tell us how it had been the talk of the school. We were left with no doubt that the location would do well.

As we were closing up, the bell at the door alerted us to someone entering. "We're closed!" George shouted.

"Even for me?" Ron asked as he came into view with Hermione.

"Especially for you! 'Mione can stay, though."

Ron shot him a glare but ignored him as they joined us at the counter. Hermione gave me a warm hug and Ron nodded at me in greeting. "We're almost done closing up, as soon as we're done we can head up to the apartment. Mrs. Weasley sent me biscuits yesterday," I offered.

"Mum sent you biscuits and not me?" George asked dramatically.

"It was, thanks for the tickets."

"And you didn't share?"

"I'm literally trying to share them right now!"

Hermione cut in before George could rebuttal, "We actually just wanted to stop by to say congratulations and then head off."

"Yeah," Ron added, "we also wanted to see if you were coming to the Burrow on Monday, Persephone."

"For what?" Arthur's birthday had been early February, George's wasn't till April, and there weren't any major holidays I could think of that they would be celebrating.

Ron's ears reddened as he mumbled, "My birthday."

"Oh! Of course, I'll be there!"

Ron and Hermione left shortly after, once more congratulating us on the shop opening. As soon as I was sure they were out of sight, I smacked George's arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For not telling me it was Ron's birthday!" I scowled as I levitated a box of overstock to a higher shelf.

"Didn't think it was important, you didn't go to Dad's dinner, why'd you go to his? Not like you're exactly close."

Were men always oblivious or just the ones I happened to be attracted to? "Doesn't matter 'bout going to the dinner! He and Ginny gave me this job, least I could do is send him a present for his birthday! And I was invited to your dad's dinner, by the way, I just couldn't go because I was helping Marietta with something that night. But I did send him a gift." A muggle origami book and origami paper. He sent back a few folded papers that somewhat resembled swans as a thank you.

"Am I going to have to tell you before every Weasley birthday?"

I paused for a moment. "Yes, actually. In fact, let's put them on my calendar right now because I don't trust you to give me proper notice."

I woke early Monday to horrific pain. My back was burning, leaving me gasping for air. A fight to untangle myself from my bed ensued, followed by me barely being able to walk as I tried to get to the washroom. One particularly brutal strike brought me to my knees. I crawled through tears, pulling myself up on the counter when I finally got to the washroom. Bottles were knocked out of the way as I blindly felt for the jar.

My fingers finally enclosed around it and I greedily applied the balm on my lower back. It didn't stop the fire, but it dulled it enough to breathe again. My arms shakily removed my shirt to allow me to cover my back in the balm, leaving only a faint echo of the pain.

I laid on the bathroom floor, too exhausted to try to climb back to bed, and hoped the nightmares would stay away this time.

Light poured through the small window when I woke up again. There was no more pain as I peeled myself off the floor, not that I expected there to be. The pain never lasted long. After a shower to wash off the balm, I made sure to put the jar in my bedroom. It was stupid of me to leave it in the bathroom in the first place. Just because it had been over a year since it had happened, didn't mean it would never happen again and I didn't have Cormac to help me anymore.

My clock told me it was early afternoon. I'd spent half of my day off sleeping on a cold tile floor. It wasn't like I had anything planned, but it felt like wasted time. It left me with little to do to distract myself. I couldn't bring myself to go back to bed, despite still feeling sluggish. There was always the possibility of him being in my dreams and taking my potion would leave me out for too long. I needed something or someone to distract me so I didn't slip into my paranoia.

Mrs. Weasley! She probably needed help setting up for Ron's birthday or cooking or baking. Or maybe she wanted to talk about meeting Celestina.

Popping outside the Burrow's garden, I could see Mrs. Weasley sitting outside with Fleur. Victoire was running around while Dominique sat on the ground next to her mum chewing on a toy. Fleur was the first to see me and gave a smile and a graceful wave. It was hard to forget that she had veela heritage, her beauty was incomparable.

As soon as Victoire saw me she let out a shriek and ran straight towards me. "Sephney!" she yelled as she jumped straight into my arms. Despite only meeting me once and a couple of months passing, Victoire talked to me as if we'd been best friends since she was born. She very excitedly told me about her new dress and that she was wearing it for her uncle.

"Perzephone! I'm zo glad to zee you! Vic haz been talking about you zinze Chriztmaz!" Fleur said with a kiss on my cheek. Victoire nodded happily.

Mrs. Weasley pulled me into a hug, telling me she was happy to see me as well. I explained that I had the day off and had come to help set up for Ron's birthday and was told that Arthur was coming home early to help. Fleur was quick to ask if I wanted to watch Victoire while she went to get the cake, and I agreed equally as fast. When she came back, I offered to keep watching her so Fleur could take a break.

Turns out that toddlers have limitless energy. And I do not. The little girl ran circles around me for over two hours and still didn't need to rest. "How about we play princesses?" I offered, hoping it meant I wouldn't have to run, climb, or jump for a few minutes.

"Mmmmm, okay. But I want to be a queen!" She said.

I nodded along, "Okay, that I can do." I pulled out my wand and grabbed the closest stick. She squealed in delight as the stick turned into a crown that I placed gently on her head. "Wow! You look incredible with a crown, like you were born for it! Are you sure you're not a queen already?"

"No!" She giggled, her blonde curls bouncing around her. I grabbed one of the hanging sheets from the clothesline, hoping Mrs. Weasley wouldn't mind, and transfigured it into a royal cloak for Victoire. She was in heaven.

I didn't get the rest I had hoped for as she decided that I needed to learn how to dance her dance. Not being able to deny the request of the most adorable queen I'd ever seen, I followed all of her steps. Right in the middle of me doing a very bad version of her dance, she suddenly let out another squeal.

"GEORGIE!"

It should have been expected that he would arrive at the most embarrassing moment possible. He stood there, red in the face, lips tight from holding in his laugh.

"Hello, princess!" he greeted her.

She crossed her arms and pouted. "I'm a queen!"

"Of course you are!" he said. He picked her up, asking what she had been making me do. "Dancing?" he asked. His smirk told me that my dancing had been not so great.

"Can you dance with me, Georgie?" She asked him.

He obliged happily, carrying her through a very over-the-top waltz that left the two of us in tears.

Arthur came along shortly after and Victoire's attention went to her grandpa. He carried her inside, leaving George and I alone. We spent several minutes playfully mocking each other before joining the others. Mrs. Weasley's lips twitched into a very subtle smile when she saw the two of us walk in.

Dinner was a fun time, just like every event with the Weasleys. Dominique sat in my lap and Victoire in George's as we enjoyed the cake, everyone talking to each other. Dominique smiled up at me, showing the two front teeth that had recently come in after I gave her a small bite of cake (with her parents' permission of course).

"So have you set a date, yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked Audrey.

"Not yet. We're still trying to decide between venues."

Victoire, who had been walking George through the steps of braiding her hair, looked up at her uncle and asked, "When are you getting married?"

He smiled down at her. "When I find someone I want to marry."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "You should marry Sephney."

I nearly choked on my pumpkin juice while several members of the family talked over each other. George, looking amused, asked her why.

"Because I like Sephney," she replied simply. She was completely unfazed by the chaos she had caused and continued to eat her cake.

Ginny took her attention, talking about how some of the players for the Harpies had been asking about her. Once everyone else eased back into conversation, George leaned over and asked, "So what kind of ring do you prefer? Diamond or a different precious stone?"

I hoped my laugh didn't sound as forced as it was. "Ruby, of course!"


	27. Scarred

  
"Persephone," a voice softly whispered in my ear, rousing me from my pillow. George's smiling face came into view, bathed in golden, morning light. He lightly pushed my hair behind my ear and ran his fingers over my cheek to brush them across my lips. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Hey, handsome," I said sleepily. And, oh Merlin, was he handsome. He had propped himself up on his elbow, allowing the light to create shadows on his bare chest.

"I was thinking breakfast in bed," he said. His hand had strayed from my lips and danced across my shoulder.

I grasped his hand, allowing him to cup my face briefly before I pulled him in for a kiss. "Mmmh, that sounds nice."

He chuckled, "I'll get to it, then," and tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let him.

"In a minute," I said into his lips. We melted into each other, my hands enjoying the feel of his body. He shook with laughter as I let out a groan.

"I think I should go make breakfast before we get too distracted. He gave me one short, sweet forehead and rolled out of bed.

I admired him as he walked out of the room, giggling when he looked back to give me a wink, before contently closing my eyes and snuggling back into the sheets.

But no matter how tightly I wrapped the blankets around me, I wasn't able to get warm. The room seemed to grow colder, seeping into my bones like ice.

"George," I called out. Maybe he could make it warmer. "George," I called again, louder, after no response. Maybe he couldn't hear me over the sound of bacon. A shiver ran up my spine as I placed my feet on the floor and wrapped the sheet around me.

I called him again as I made my way through the hall, checking room after room after room just in case he had stopped in one of them. The apartment was much bigger than I remembered. "George?" It was strange that I could hear no sound besides my own voice. He was cooking, right?

The kitchen's doorway was finally in view after what seemed like a maze of rooms. The knot in my stomach untangled when I saw him standing in front of the table. The 'World's Best Boss' mug I'd gotten him sat on the table between two plates of food.

"I was calling you," I said, stepping towards him. His face stopped me. "What's wrong?"

"He wasn't expecting visitors." Alecto Carrow seemed to materialize from nothing as she held her wand pointed at him.

My hands fumbled looking for my wand before something pressed sharply into my back. "I wouldn't do that."

It was a voice I knew, one that I would never forget. "How are you here?"

Amycus kept his wand on me as he came into view with a disturbingly gleeful smile. "Did really you think you could ever escape me? That I wouldn't purge the world of your disgusting, filthy blood?" His face darkened. "And when I heard that you were destroying yet another Pureblood line, I knew I couldn't wait any longer."

"Okay," my voice shook as I tried to fight back the panic, "okay. You can do whatever you want to me. I- I won't fight. But please, let him go. He has nothing to do with this."

Alecto cackled. "Doesn't he? Blood Traitor like 'em just as bad as a pathetic little Half-Blood."

"No, no. Just me, please! He'll do better, I swear! Just me!"

Amycus grabbed a fistful of my hair and snapped my head backward. He held his wand at my throat. "You do not get a say. We're going to clean up the world and rid it of trash, starting with your little boyfriend. _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The room flashed green and a sickening thud echoed across it. I escaped Amycus's grasp and rushed to George's side. He was in a heap on the ground, unmoving as I called out his name like I had before. His eyes started without seeing as I held his body.

He was gone.

When the room flashed green once more, I closed my eyes to greet the end. At least in death, I'd be with my family again. I waited for something to change, to hear Mum's voice or feel Dad wrap me in a hug. Maybe even hear Sarah calling out my name. But nothing came. When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was the ceiling in my room.

_It wasn't real._

It had only been a nightmare. A horrible, twisted nightmare.

George was alive. He was okay.

_It wasn't real._

Then why was my face wet, like I'd been crying? Why did it feel as if I were on the verge of vomiting? If it hadn't been real, why did my heart still hurt?

Could Amycus have escaped? If he did, he would want to find out where I lived. And what better way than ask my employer?

_It wasn't real._

But what if it was?

Anxiety consumed me. I needed to know he was safe.

I turned the knob to his apartment to find it locked. Never once had George locked his door in the time we'd been working together. My knocking got more frantic the longer I waited. I reached for my wand, ready to blast it off its hinges, when it finally opened.

He was nearly knocked over when I wrapped my arms around him. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him over my own crying.

"...happening? Persephone, Persephone! Are you okay?" He pushed me back, checking worriedly over me.

"You were dead! I saw him, I saw him kill you!"

He didn't fight me as I embraced him once again. His chest rose steadily and, just beneath it, there was the thumping of his heart. Warmth radiated from him as he held on to me. He was alive.

_It wasn't real._

"I'm not dead, Seph," he said, his voice soft.

It was only a nightmare. "He was here. I couldn't stop him. He was here and I couldn't stop him."

George was patient as he waited for me to calm down. He reassured me over and over that he was fine, that there was no one there. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"My uncle, he was here. He killed you." It was the best explanation I could give.

"Your uncle?"

"Amycus. Alecto, too. They got out, they said they wouldn't let me ruin another Pureblood line."

He let out a heavy sigh, resting his head on mine and pulling me tighter. "No one got out. It was just a bad dream."

_It wasn't real._

Despite the heat of George, I shivered. In my panic, I had ignored the rain and gotten drenched. "Let's get you dry, okay?" I nodded, the cold finally setting in. He diligently dried my clothes and began to do the same for my hair. There was an audible intake of breath as he lifted my hair.

George had never seen the scars and they weren't common knowledge. People knew I had been my uncle's favorite victim, but they thought the only Dark Magic he ever inflicted were the Unforgivable Curses. They didn't know how personal his hate for me was.

"He wanted to make sure I never forgot him," I whispered.

He let my hair fall over my back. "You don't have to tell me."

"I don't," I turned and looked up at him, "but I want to. Amycus was my dad's younger brother. They weren't close, but they were family. Until Dad met Mum. She was a Half-Blood, daughter of a witch and a muggle. When they got engaged, Dad was disowned for 'bringing shame on the family'. About a year after they got married, my uncle went to talk to Dad, to convince him to leave Mum, but Dad tried to show him he was happy. Amycus was horrified when he found out about the muggle things Dad had been trying and disgusted when he learned Mum was pregnant with me."

"I'd never met anyone on Dad's side, just been told about them and seen them in passing. They acted like we didn't exist. When they showed up at Hogwarts, they mostly ignored me in the beginning, but when I refused to perform the Cruciatus Curse..." Amycus was all too happy to use it on me. "I openly criticized them, their teachings, and made it impossible to ignore me. Every indiscretion became a personal attack for them and they punished accordingly. It didn't take him long to move beyond his typical torture with me. He told me that I was a constant reminder to his family of the embarrassment my father had become, so he would leave me with a constant reminder that I never should have been born."

I pulled my hair over my shoulders and ran my wand down the back of my camisole. It cut along the trail of the wand, rolling the extra fabric to reveal flesh heavily marred by barely healed welts. George was completely silent as he took in the full extent of the damage Amycus had done.

I could feel his fingers tracing a particularly nasty scar and shivered from the touch.

He apologized quietly, tapping my camisole with his wand to have it stitch back together. He placed his hand on my shoulder, but I couldn't face him. There were only four people who had ever seen my scars, and the last one I had shown them too hadn't had any trouble weaponizing the knowledge.

"He would have killed me if he could have gotten away with it. But up until his death, no one knew Dad had been actively helping an Undesirable. If Dean hadn't warned Seamus so Cho could help me escape, he would have done it."

"Why didn't you go with the rest of the DA earlier?"

The image of a little body lying motionless in the Hospital Wing made my gut wrench. "Aiden Lucas. After a few weeks, I couldn't handle it anymore. So I stayed quiet in class for a few days. Without me taking up his time, Amycus found someone else. He was only eleven." My voice cracked. My selfishness had nearly caused him to die.

"It wasn't your fault."

I shook my head but said nothing. George wouldn't understand the guilt.

He pulled me back into him, putting his arms around me. "He's never getting out, Seph. He'll never be able to hurt you or anyone else again."

I grasped his arm, afraid for a moment that he would disappear and this had been nothing more than the last hallucination before death. "People have escaped before." Even without Dementors, all it would take is one sympathetic or careless Auror.

"I will never let anyone hurt you."

It wasn't me that I was worried about. I'd opened myself up again and there were too many people I cared about. I'd welcome death before I'd see anyone else suffer because of me. "Just...just promise me you'll keep locking your doors."

He tried to convince me to stay, but I couldn't. The last time I woke up in his apartment, he ended up dead. Nightmare or not, I couldn't take that chance. As he kissed my forehead before I left, it reminded me that it hadn't started as a nightmare.

No, it had started with me completely and utterly happy in the arms of the man I was completely and utterly in love with.

_It wasn't real._


	28. The Family Reunion

Wind whipped against my face, stinging it with the saltwater it had picked up and making it even harder to see in the already dense fog. The rocking boat seemed unsteady, and I tried to prepare myself for the moment it would tip over and send its occupants plunging into the freezing sea.

Ron didn't seem as intimidated by the water as I was. He sat so calmly in the jostling boat, it was apparent this wasn't his first trip to the cold, isolated island.

We jerked forward as the boat stopped abruptly on the rocky beach and Ron barely managed to stop me from falling off the seat.

He asked, "Alright?" to which I nodded.

He helped me off and we climbed up the shore until the towering fortress could finally be seen through the fog.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked cautiously. "I know the Dementors are gone, but the place still feels wrong. " Maybe he wasn't as fearless of the place after all.

"I'm sure."

There were more Aurors than I expected, even a few I recognized from school or the battle. Each one scrutinized my presence, possibly accessing how much of a threat I could be, before sparing a glance at Ron and turning away. Entering the fortress felt like walking through a waterfall and I recoiled from the sensation.

"Sorry, should have warned you about the security measures. That one was Harry's idea, had something like it at Gringotts. It gets rid of concealments and whatnot. Been pretty handy. Oh, you'll check in your wand here."

Parting with my wand was the hardest part. It was my safety, my protection. I handed it over to the man and watched as he shut it in a box. It took three different searches by three different Aurors before I was allowed any further. I was led through a narrow hallway and given a brief breakdown of how the visit would go. Someone would be watching and they'd be able to respond if any issues arose.

At the end of the hall, they opened the door to a room housing two chairs several feet apart. Ron gave a reassuring shoulder squeeze before leaving with the others and leaving me alone in the room. Time seemed to drag as I paced the room. It gnawed at my resolve, voices encouraging me to just walk out the door and forget my plan.

Just when it seemed I would cave, the door opened again. Amycus walked in, hands and feet chained, but looking much like he had last time I'd seen him.

Nothing was said as two Aurors led him over to one of the chairs and produced a chain from the ground that connected to the ones that bound him. The thud of the door closing echoed in the silent room behind them.

"Uncle," I greeted.

He spat at the ground in front of my feet. "Half-Blood."

More silence followed and I continued to pace. His eyes followed me as I crossed back and forth, waiting impatiently for me to speak.

Mid-step I paused and looked at him. "Why did you never get married?"

"Why- What?"

"Why did you never get married?" I repeated.

He snarled, "What's it matter to you?"

The chair scraped loudly across the floor as I pulled it closer and took a seat. I was wrong that he looked the same. He'd lost weight, his eyes had heavy, dark circles underneath, and his hair had thinned significantly. The hatred he had in his eyes hadn't dimmed, however. "For someone so obsessed with the purity of the family line, you'd think you'd have contributed to it."

"Is that what you came here for? To ask stupid questions?" He no longer looked at me, instead inspecting the floor.

"No. I came for answers. So tell me, uncle, why would the blood purity of others matter so much, but you wouldn't find it important to add more Purebloods to the world? Did you ever truly believe that Muggle Blood was dirty, or did you just want to feel a false sense of superiority?"

He remained quiet, his mouth twitching.

I leaned in, "Did you have so little to contribute to society that you hid behind your ancestry to feel special? Did you know that you were such a subpar wizard that you had to hurt children to feel any sense of power? Tell me, uncle, were you so pathetic that no other Pureblood wanted you?"

Amycus leapt out of his chair, a feral look across his face, and reached out his chained hands toward me. It took every last bit of strength I had not to move, but I managed not to flinch despite the terror that ran through my veins. He wouldn't be able to touch me.

He didn't even get close, the chains pulled him back in seconds and Aurors rushed the room. He was dragged from the room, thrashing and screaming. He threatened that if he ever saw me again he would finish the job he had started and kill me.

But his words were empty. He'd never get out. Even if someone managed to outsmart all the security, they wouldn't do it for him. Amycus hadn't been sent to Hogwarts because he was important. He was a brute, but he was nothing special.

"Alright, Persephone?" Ron asked. He looked down at me concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright."

Amycus would never be able to hurt me again. He would spend the rest of his life in a cell where the Pureblood legacy of the Carrows would die with him.  
  
  
  


The Hogsmeade shop was pretty quiet on weekdays, usually allowing me to get my office work done when I was there even though I was alone. Today wasn't any different as I sat at the counter going through the mail.

Order.

Invoice.

Order.

Order.

Order.

Cho?

My personal letters must have gotten mixed in with the business ones.

_I'm so glad you decided to speak at the gala. Lunch on Saturday to discuss the details?_

_-Cho_

I scribbled a quick response, agreeing to lunch, and sent it off. After seeing Amycus, I no longer felt as afraid as I had. I was no longer ashamed of myself or what I had been through. If I could give that kind of relief to someone else just by telling my story, why not?

Another hour passed before the bell at the door chimed. I put down my quill to greet the customer but saw Ron instead.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

My eyebrows raised in confusion. "About what?"

He held up his hands defensively. "I thought you told him."

"Ron, what are -"

The bell chimed again as George stormed in. "Azkaban? You went to Azkaban?"

My head fell into my hand and I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had not told George about the visit. Stupidly, I had assumed I'd have more time to tell him. It'd only been a couple days and I hadn't seen him. Sure, I'd been avoiding him, but still.

"And I had to find out from my brother days later?"

"I was going to tell you." I was. Eventually.

George scoffed, "You should have told me before you went! That man tortured you, Persephone, and you just went by yourself to see him?" Ron mumbled something about being there and George told him to shut it, though he used much more colorful language. "You should have told me, I should have been there with you."

"I didn't want you anywhere near that man, George. This was something I needed to do, for me. I needed to face him and I needed to do it on my own. Besides, I was completely safe. That place is crawling with Aurors."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, the chains stopped him before he could get his hands on her. She didn't even flinch when he lunged." Ron didn't realize his mistake immediately. He stood there for a few moments, blissfully unaware that I was imagining hexing his mouth shut. When he finally caught my glare, a light went off.

"He lunged at you?"

"I might have said a few things that could have upset him and he reacted by trying to lunge at me. But he was chained down, so like Ron said, he didn't even get close. Plus Aurors got there in seconds. I wasn't in any danger."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "she was completely safe. And totally brilliant. She really went off on him in there, can only imagine what would have happened if she had her wand."

George's voice went up an octave as he yelled, "You didn't have your wand?"

Ron was much quicker this time in realizing he had said too much. He mouthed a sorry to me and backed away. "It was one of the many security measures. They're very thorough in ensuring people who go in can't help people get out."

He let a frustrated sigh out and walked over to pull me into a hug. "You weren't hurt? You were in no danger at all?"

"I was completely safe. I'm still safe. He's never going to get out."

George let me go, running his hand through his hair. He must have gotten it trimmed recently because his missing ear was more visible than it had been. "I get why you went, Seph, I do. But I wish you would have told me you went at least."

"No offense, mate, but she doesn't really have to tell her boss what she does outside of work."

We'd all been preoccupied with ourselves that we hadn't heard the bell when the door opened. Cormac stood there, blank-faced as he was stared down by the three of us.

"No one asked your opinion, mate. Now get out of my shop." George jerked his head harshly towards the door.

Cormac was unfazed by the animosity that had filled the room, maintaining an emotionless expression. Cormac had never been one to shy away from expressing his emotions, it was unsettling to see him so inexpressive. "Persephone, could we talk?"

"Like hell you can!"

"Over my dead body."

There was something wrong with Cormac. As he stared at me waiting for an answer, it clicked. He wasn't expressionless. I'd seen him this way once before. I agreed, "Okay."

My red-headed protectors objected quickly, trying to convince me not to talk to him. But I didn't change my mind, Cormac needed to talk and I wanted to listen. When George realized this he tried to have Cormac talk to me right there.

I grabbed George's hand and gave it a squeeze. "This is something I need to do. We'll be just outside, you'll be able to see us through the windows. Besides, I can handle myself." I lifted my wand as I sign that I could, in fact, handle myself if something were to happen.

George reluctantly agreed, squeezing my hand and nodding. He looked at McLaggen and warned that he wasn't afraid of Wizengamont enough not to hex him again if he tried anything. Cormac led me outside, making sure to keep us in sight of the two inside, but far enough away so that they would not be able to hear what we were saying or see his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's Mum. She was attacked by something, they don't know." Tears were forming in his eyes. "She's stable, but she hasn't woken up yet and they have no idea if she will or what she's going to be like if she does." He covered his mouth, trying to fight the tears that threatened to roll down his face, but losing. "I haven't even been to see her yet, I - I don't know if I can, Pers."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him in. He held on tightly as he lost the battle and sobbed into my shoulder. His Mum was everything to him and, even though we hadn't always gotten along, she had been a constant companion throughout our relationship.

"I can't lose her too, not yet."

I rubbed his back and waited for him to calm down a bit. "She's a strong woman, Cor. She won't give up without one hell of a fight. But I think she needs you there for her to do it."

"I don't think I can," he said.

"I'll go with you."

He let me go and wiped away the wetness on his face with his sleeve. "You will?"

I bobbed my head in confirmation. "Whatever happens, remember? Let me just grab a couple of things and we'll head over." I left him there and ducked back inside, nearly running into Ron.

"You alright?"

"What was that about?"

I paid little mind to the questions, focused on getting my keys and cloak. "His mum's at St. Mungo's, I'm going to go with him over there." My cloak was on the chair, but my keys weren't anywhere to be seen.

Ron asked, "What's that got to do with you?"

Paper rustled as I checked over the desk in hopes of finding them. "He doesn't want to go alone." Drawers were opened and slammed shut a few seconds later with no success. Where did I put them?

"That doesn't mean you have to go with him! After everything he's done? After everything he said?" George had followed me around the counter, standing over my shoulder.

The last door slammed shut in frustration. I'd had them before lunch. "That's not important right now." I could have slapped myself as I remembered I was a witch. Keys flew from up the stairs into my hands. I turned to leave but was blocked.

"Not important?" George asked, disbelieving. "Have you forgotten that he's currently pressing charges against me?"

"Forgotten?" I scoffed. "You never even told me they had set a trial date! I had to find out through Ginny and that was nearly two months ago! So no George, I have not forgotten. But right now his mum is in the hospital and he is terrified. He has no idea if he'll ever be able to talk to her again and he needs someone there with him. So I am going." I shoved past him, not wanting to hear whatever excuse he had to say. I joined Cormac again and Disapparated.


	29. The Diadem Of Ravenclaw

**_May 1st, 1998_ **

"Think the rumors are true?" Cormac asked as we picked up the last of the plates.

"That Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to break into Gringotts and broke out on a dragon? With those three, I believe it." Honestly, it was the more outlandish the rumor about the trio, the more believable it was. It didn't hurt that it had come from George's voice over Potterwatch either.

We made our way down the tunnel, dropping off the plates and thanking Aberforth for the dinner he'd made, and went back up it for the last time of the day. Since our first run to the kitchen, Cormac and I had gotten close. We'd made two more runs since, different tactics from the first run. Smarter ones.

Our second run, we had Polyjuice and managed to get some hairs from a couple Hufflepuffs who hadn't gone into hiding yet. We went out only an hour after classes that time, the Hufflepuffs we were masquerading as were having a nice, long nap in a locked closet. After three hours, we made it back with plenty of food and lots of intel.

Our third and most recent trip, we'd used some Invisibility Cloaks we'd charmed ourselves and enchanted them to repel most spells. It was shortly after lunch on a Saturday when we left and well after midnight when we had returned. We'd spent the hours removing hexes and jinxes from the secret passages we knew and adding our own. We'd even had the chance to run across a couple of Death Eaters who were stationed to look out for us and left them battered, bruised, and incredibly confused.

It had been a fight to convince the others to let me go out again. After how I had returned and the realization that I had planned for such an event, they were terrified I wouldn't come back. Especially Cormac. But I had convinced them, one by one to support my plans. My budding friendship with the Gryffindor was helpful in convincing them that I did not have a death wish.

"Whatever they're doing, I hope they figure it out soon. I don't want to think what will happen if this goes into summer," he said, his tone worried. "Mum and Dad haven't been in contact in weeks."

I grasped for his hand in the dark, rubbing circles over the back of his hand in comfort. I couldn't tell him they'd be fine or not to worry. After what happened to my own dad and to Sarah, I knew the grim reality. "Whatever happens, I'm here. Okay?"

He stopped, pulling me into him. He was careful as he wrapped his arms around my neck in a hug, avoiding putting any pressure on my back. The lashes didn't hurt like they used to, but I still couldn't stand them being touched. I wrapped my own arms around his waist in return.

"Thank you," he said.

"It's what friends are for."

A few hours later and we were sitting far off from the group, working on adding protective spells and the Disillusionment Charm to the new piles of cloaks the room had provided us a couple days before. They wouldn't stop the major curses and they'd survive one or two uses, but they stopped us from getting jinxed from behind when we went out. Added with other rather nifty inventions, like the Glue Bombs we'd created that only stuck to those with the Dark Mark, we were feeling more secure every time we needed to make a run.

"Have I told you that you're brilliant?" he asked as he finished the last cloak.

"Once or twice," I said with a smile. He'd said it quite a few times, but it was always nice to hear.

"Well I'll say it again. You're brilliant, Pers."

It was the first time he called me by my nickname. It had always been Persephone or love when he wanted to tease me. No one had called me Pers in a while. "Thanks, Cor."

He smiled at his lap, not a smug or arrogant one, but one that was soft and warm. Affectionate even.

The moment was short lived as a commotion near the tunnel grabbed our attention. Had we been found? If we had, was Aberforth hurt? We made our way over to the tunnel just in time to see Neville slip through.

"What's going on?" I asked Seamus.

He looked thoroughly excited. "Apparently Potter's at the Hog's Head right now and he needs to get into Hogwarts. Neville's gone to fetch him."

He was back. Harry was back. "We're going to fight."

Seamus nodded his head enthusiastically. We knew if he came back that it would mean it was time to finally kick the Death Eaters out of our school. We'd discussed it at length in hopes that it would be sooner rather than later.

I leaned into Cormac, both relieved and terrified about what we were about to do. The battle could end in victory or defeat, but either way people would lose their lives. The Carrows had made it abundantly clear they were comfortable committing murder. Even if it was the murder of a child or their own niece.

Cormac placed his arm around me in comfort, but it didn't make me feel much better. He would stay and fight, like I would, and there was a real possibility he could be hurt. Or worse. I don't know if I could take that kind of loss after losing everything else.

But I wouldn't ask him to not fight. Just like he wouldn't ask me.

We waited, collectively holding our breath until the portrait swung forward and Neville stepped out followed shortly by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. People shouted their names before they swarmed the three in a barge of hugs, hair rustles, and back pats. Cormac and I stayed rooted to our spot. It was finally time.

At least we thought it was. After the greetings died down, Harry seemed shocked that we wanted a fight. He insisted that that wasn't the plan, he was there to find something and couldn't tell us what. This led to a back and forth between him and Neville- Neville wanting us to fight and Harry wanting to leave after he found what he needed.

Trying to explain himself ended up being impossible as Luna and Dean came out from the tunnel, causing Seamus to push through everyone else and embrace his best friend. Neville had contacted Luna and Ginny before he went to get Harry.

"Listen," Harry said, "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then -"

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" Micheal demanded.

"No!" Ron said. "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about getting rid of You-Know-Who -"

Neville interjected, "Then let us help! We want to be part of it!"

The tunnel opened again, revealing Ginny, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. All of them looked almost the same as I remembered. All except the left side of George's head. Ginny had told Luna and I about how he'd lost his ear over summer, but it still didn't prepare me for actually seeing it. Despite being left with only a single ear, he was smiling and seemed no worse for wear. He was as handsome as ever.

"Aberforth's getting a bit annoyed. He wants a kip, and his bar's been turned into a railway station." Fred waved to those who had called out in greeting.

George asked, "So what's the plan, Harry?"

This sparked a new debate about whether or not we would be fighting. Fred and George began cracking some jokes to those around them while the Golden Trio spoke amongst each other. Even his laugh had maintained its carefree sound.

Cormac cleared his throat and I realized I had drifted away from him, letting his arm fall off of me at some point. Shuffling back, I hoped he hadn't seen me watching the one Weasley with extra attention.

"Okay," Harry called out, the room falling silent after. "There's something we need to find. Something that can help us with You-Know-Who. We don't know what it is exactly, but we know it's here at Hogwarts and that belonged or was important to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard or seen anything like that?" He looked hopefully towards the cluster of my Housemates.

"There's her lost diadem," Luna offered.

Micheal was quick to remind her that it was lost, Cho adding that it was lost several centuries ago. None of us had ever seen it anywhere other than Rowena's statue in the tower.

"If you'd like to see what it's supposed to look like, I can take you up to the tower and show you. She's wearing it in her statue," Cho offered.

Harry rubbed his scar and spoke with the other two quickly. He agreed to go up to the tower, but Ginny quickly stepped in and said that Luna would take him to the tower. Cho looked disappointed but sat down anyway.

Neville stepped in, "You should also take Persephone. She's been out there recently and can help avoid the patrols. Got some pretty mean hexes, too."

Ginny nodded her approval to Harry and then he looked to me where I copied the motion. Usually the less people out, the better, but I could understand Neville's reasoning. Cormac, however, didn't like the idea.

"Haven't you done enough?" he asked.

I squeezed his hand. We hadn't ever gone out without each other and I'd miss having him have my back. "I'll be right back. You won't even have time to miss me," I promised. His expression was skeptical, but he let me go.

I led the other two up the stairs, through the unexpected twists and turns until we came to what looked like a solid wall. "Get under here," Harry said, pulling out a cloak and throwing it under the three of us. It was an Invisibility Cloak, much like the ones I had made with Cormac, only far superior. It was lucky that we all fit.

Through the door, Harry pulled out the map he'd used back when we were in the DA. We made it down to the fifth, past Filch and ghosts, checking the map whenever light allowed. He followed as we led him to the swirling staircase. We climbed up until we came to the bronze eagle knocker.

Luna reached out her hand, a ghostly vision as it appeared to float in midair, and knocked. The light, musical voice asked, "Which came first, the Phoenix or the flame?"

"Hmmm, what do you think, Harry?" Luna asked.

"What? Isn't there a password?"

Luna shook her head. "To get in you have to answer a riddle. Changes every time."

Harry's face paled slightly. "And if you can't answer it?"

"Don't worry, Harry," I said. "Neither of us have ever been stuck out here. I suppose neither came first."

"I concur. A circle has no beginning," Luna said.

"Well reasoned," the voice said, the door swinging open.

We stepped into the deserted common room. It was an odd sight to not see anyone sitting at one of the tables, studying or reading or drawing. There was always someone down here doing something. The emptiness left me unnerved.

Moving towards the large marble statue of my House's Founder, hairs on the back of my arm stood up. Danger. I looked at Luna, whose demeanor hadn't seemed to have changed, but her eyes were scanning the room. Something was wrong.

Harry, the Boy Who Lived, Potter didn't seem to notice. He slipped out from under the cloak faster than Luna could grab him, climbing the statue's base to get a closer look at the crown on its head.

" _'Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure.'_ "

"Which makes you pretty poor, witless," my aunt's cackling voice said. She'd hidden behind curtains close to the statue.

I froze, watching between her and Harry as he slipped and fell hard on the floor. He was too slow to raise his wand. Her forefinger pressed into the Dark Mark branded on her arm and Harry seemed to go into a daze. A twisted, victorious smile snaked onto her lips.

There was a loud bang and a flash of red light struck Alecto in her face. She fell forward, hitting the ground so hard that the glasses on the shelf vibrated.

"I've never Stunned anyone outside of DA before. That was a lot noisier than I thought it would be," Luna said beside me, lowering her wand.

The ceiling above us began to shake and the sound of scurrying, heavy footsteps echoed through the room. Her spell had managed to wake the entire House it seemed.

"Guys? Where are you?" Harry whispered frantically. "I need to get under the cloak!"

We lifted the cloak, showing our feet, and Harry hurriedly got back under, enduring we were completely hidden as we backed against the wall. The door flew open and fellow Ravenclaws streamed out, all dressed for bed and filled the room. We pushed further into the wall for fear of being touched. Surprised gasps echoed amongst them as they realized it was Alecto lying face down in the common room, slowly enclosing on her as if in fear she would pop up and attack them if they moved too quickly. Until little Anthony Walsh walked up and prodded her with his foot.

"I think she's dead!" he shouted excitedly.

The gathered students whispered to each other, worried about what it would mean for them if she were dead. When the booming sound of the eagle knocker being slammed on the door sounded, they all froze. The light, musical voice of the knocker asked: "Where do Vanished objects go?"

Amycus was agitated as he said, "I dunno, do I? Shut it! Alecto? Alecto? Have you got him? Open the door!"

My housemates whispered to each other, clearly terrified. Without warning, loud bangs sounded from the door. It seemed like he was trying to blast his way in.

"Alecto! Do you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? Open the door!" The door began to shake and rattle, but no amount of physical strength could open that door.

"May I ask what you're doing, Professor Carrow?" Professor McGonagall asked from his side of the door.

He responded angrily that he was trying to get the door open and that his sister, who Flitwick had let in earlier, was not responding. He rudely told her to open the door, something she coldly agreed to.

"Where do Vanished objects go?"

"Into nonbeing, which is to say everything."

The few Ravenclaws who had stayed behind, sprinted up the stairs as the door burst open and my uncle walked in with Professor McGonagall. He found his sister quickly, telling in anger and fear of what his Master would do. Whatever Harry was looking for, You-Know-Who had seemed to know he was coming. He'd planted Alecto here to catch him in the act.

"We can push it off on the kids," Amycus said, his face lighting up. "We'll tell 'em that a bunch of kids ambushed her and forced her to press the Mark. He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

No. No.

I slipped out of the Invisibility Cloak and behind a curtain. I rustled it, making enough noise to get the attention of the two adults. I revealed myself, wand aimed at my uncle. "I can see why you weren't in Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw."

"You!"

"Miss me, uncle?" I asked, taking a few steps away from the window and positioning between him and the door to the dormitories. "Aunty Alecto was just as happy to see me, you know? She pressed her mark so we could have a nice family reunion," I lied.

Alecto growled, his wand raised. "You little lying bitch. You made her press it, didn't you? I should've killed you in that corridor. But I guess I'll just have to hand you over to the Dark Lord himself, let 'em have his fun."

Professor McGonagall stepped between us, facing my uncle. "You shall do no such thing! Not to one of my students. I shall not permit it."

"Excuse me?" Amycus moved offensively close to McGonagall, who refused to back away. "It is not a case of what you'll permit Minerva. Your time's over. It's us that's in charge now and you'll do as we say or pay the price."

Then he spat in her face.

Harry appeared from near the window, raised his wand, and said, "You shouldn't have done that." Amycus spun in surprise just as Harry yelled, "Crucio!"

A sick, twisted feeling of delight flowed through me as I watched him thrash and howl in pain. He slammed into a bookcase with crunch, glass shattering as he crumpled motionless onto the floor. Harry's curse had, luckily for him, left him unconscious.

"I see what Bellatrix meant," Harry said ominously, "you really have to mean it."

"Potter! What? How - " McGonagall struggled to get out a coherent sentence. "Potter that was foolish of you!"

Harry looked at her with an unnervingly calm face. "He spat at you." I didn't know whether to be offended or not that Amycus threatening to turn me over to You-Know-Who hadn't spurred him into similar action.

"Potter, I -that was very gallant of you, but don't you realize -"

"Yeah, I do," he said steadily. "Voldemort's on his way."


	30. St. Mungo's

  
**_George_ **

I messed up.

Persephone was right. I had kept things from her while expecting complete transparency in return. She had never questioned me or called me out about it, even though she had every right to. She had trusted my decisions.

Yet here I was, acting like some possessive, douchebag boyfriend when we weren't even together. I was nothing more than her boss. She had no requirement to tell me where she had been or where she was going.

Ron asked, "Has she gone mad?" as we watched her and McLaggen Dissaperate. "She can't just go off with that prick!"

"She can," I said. My head fell into my hands as I perched myself up against the counter. No matter my personal beef with McLaggen, his mum was at St. Mungo's hurt or sick and Persephone still cared about him enough to comfort him. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the person she was. "Look, I'm- I'm going to lock up here. Could you let Amber know I won't be back?"

Ron left telling me to owl if I needed anything. I briefly debated whether to keep the shop open or not, but I decided that I didn't have the mental capacity to keep it open. I left a note apologizing for the inconvenience, letting them know the location would be closed for the remainder of the day and all tomorrow. Closing up was even difficult as each task was overshadowed by the incessant thought that I had ruined any hopes of ever being with her.

 _"Really, that's what you're worried about right now, you selfish prick?"_ Fred's voice rang in my head. _"Ever thought maybe she cared about his mum and was worried about her?"_

No, no I hadn't. Once again, I was making her problems about me.

_"No shit, mate. You've had your head too far up your arse. Think you outta go check if she needs anything."_

St. Mungo's was a busy place, much busier than it had been when Dad had been here a few years back. The receptionist at the front counter was busy and I strummed my fingers against the counter as I waited. Time ticked by slowly as she worked her way to me.

When she finally cast her speckled gaze on me she asked, "Who are you here to see?"

"McLaggen."

"First name?" She asked, picking up her clipboard and looking it over.

I paused. First name? "I don't know."

Her eyes rolled behind her glasses and she huffed, "Then I can't help you," and turned around. Trying to get her attention proved futile as she either couldn't hear or ignored my pleas. The temptation to just head up and go through every floor until I found her was strong, but the eyes that followed me as I paced the lobby stopped me.

My patience was dwindling and I thought of all the people who might know McLaggen's mum's name. Hermione maybe? Maybe Mum? My name was called out and I could see Lavender Brown, dressed in a Healer's uniform heading over to me.

Like many of the survivors of the war, she hadn't come out of it unscathed. Scars lined her neck from where Greyback had torn into her at the battle. Because he hadn't been transformed at the time, she didn't suffer from lycanthropy but did have some symptoms. Bill had been almost a mentor to her after she recovered to help guide her through her new tendencies.

"Is someone hurt?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

"Mrs. McLaggen. Persephone came with McLaggen and I wanted to see if she needed anything. I don't know how long she'll be here."

She gave me a small smile, "Lucky that you ran into me then. Follow me." According to Lavender, she was the primary Healer for Mrs. McLaggen and was on her way home when she spotted me. It was lucky.

She took me up to the first floor, to a room just down the hall from where Dad had been during his stay. Not wanting to upset McLaggen, Lavender did me one last favor and called Persephone out.

"I thought you were off for the night," she said to Lavender. Lavender pointed to me. Persephone's face went from neutral to furious as she set her eyes on me. "Seriously, George? I'm not going to leave!"

I held my arms out and shook my hands. "No, no no no. I'm not asking you to! I just- I wanted to see if you needed anything." Her face softened slightly, but she didn't seem to fully trust what I was saying.

Lavender excused herself quickly, promising Persephone she would be back tomorrow. Persephone folded her arms in front of her as she watched Lavender disappear. "What do you mean if I need anything?"

"Well, I thought you might be here awhile. Thought you might need food or something. I can get anything you need."

"Oh." She looked thoughtful, biting her lip. After a moment, she cast a glance into the room. She asked, "Anything?"

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't that I didn't want to help in any way I could, but being in McLaggen's apartment just felt gross. Apparently, he had never moved out of their shared apartment. Or redecorated.

It had been several months since they had broken up and Persephone had left, yet pictures of the two of them still hung on the walls of the living room. In them, they were smiling, laughing, and looking very much in love. It was disturbing to realize all their photos were in clear view of the couch.

It was a lot of self-control to not take them down. After what he had put her through, it felt like a mockery of her and their relationship. But I didn't want him to come back and complain to her that I had messed with his apartment when I was already on thin ice. I sucked it up and got what she asked for, making sure to leave everything as I had found it.

After stopping by her apartment, I went back to St. Mungo's. It didn't seem right to walk into the room of someone I didn't know, so I peeked around the corner to get her attention. My stomach dropped when I saw her and McLaggen sitting together on the small couch, their hands were intertwined as they sat silently. The sound of the bags must have alerted her as I tried to retreat from the sight.

She whispered something to him and left him behind to greet me again. "Thank you, George," she said as she took the bags. Her shoulders heaved as she let out a heavy sigh and pushed her hair out of her face. Worry seemed to be etched into her being as she stood there.

"How is she doing?"

She fidgeted with her hands, not looking at me. "She hasn't woken up yet. They've tried a few different potions and spells, but without knowing what attacked her it's not likely to do any good. We're waiting on a specialist from the Ministry to come by to hopefully give us some clue, but they said he won't be here till tomorrow."

I wanted nothing more than to pull her into me and comfort her, promising it would all be fine, like I'd done before. "Is there anything more I can do?"

She shook her head, a single tear falling down her face that she quickly wiped away. "No, you've done plenty, thank you. You should head home. I've got to get back to Cormac." She gave a meager wave as she went back to him.

One, maybe two hours passed, but I couldn't relax. Originally, it was about Persephone and the possibility of her rekindling her relationship with McLaggen. But as I thought more and more, it was Mrs. McLaggen and her son I worried for. No one knew what had happened to her or if she would be alright. Her life was on the line. Despite this, the Ministry was taking it's time to deliver the help that could possibly save her. The Ministry had always been a bureaucratic nightmare, but I had hoped it had changed in recent years under new leadership. Kingsley and Dad would have rushed to help if they knew.

That thought made me jump to my feet. If Dad knew, he would do anything to help. And he must know whoever the specialist is.

Dad did know. "That's supposed to be Sean Flint, but he's notoriously difficult. Will never work a second outside normal Ministry hours no matter how urgent the matter," he huffed as he paced the Burrow's kitchen room. "It's ludicrous that they allow him to risk people's lives like this."

Mum spoke up from the table, her eyes following Dad, "I'm sure he'd go if you talked to him, Arthur."

He shook his head. "No, no he wouldn't. He's a stubborn bastard."

It wasn't the news I had been hoping for. How could the Ministry allow something like this? "So there's nothing we can do to help her?"

Dad paused in thought. "Rolf." He strode quickly over to the table and ruffled through his briefcase. A moment later he pulled out a small notebook and flipped through a couple of pages. "Aha!" he exclaimed as he stopped on one.

"Rolf Scamander. He's been here for a few weeks on loan from MACUSA. Brilliant young man." Dad grabbed his cloak and headed for the door. "And always willing to help."  
  
  
  


**_Persephone_ **

Cormac snored quietly on the couch as the night went on. It'd been difficult to convince him to sleep. He was worried his mum would wake up or something terrible would happen while he wasn't awake. It took several promises to get him to take some of my Draught and pass out. Occasionally a Healer would come to check on Helen, but nothing changed. Despite their best attempts, nothing had helped and there was little they could do without knowing what had attacked her.

Rain tapped against the glass of the window, giving me something to watch as I waited uneasily for anything to happen. The last time I'd been to St. Mungo's, it had been to say goodbye to my own mother. It was too easy to imagine her lying in the hospital bed that housed Helen's unconscious body.

_"Do not worry for me, dear. Death is simple. It comes for us all one day, but it is not the end. It is another adventure. Remember what we've always said: Even in death, love lives. And I love you so very much."_

My eyes shut tight at the memory. It was both the best and worst one I had of Mum. It had been an incredible blessing to have the chance to say goodbye, but I would never wish the pain of seeing their mother near death on anyone.

My thoughts kindly drifted to George as I sat against the cold window. I'd wanted him to stay, but it didn't seem appropriate to ask him. Not with the animosity between him and Cormac. It had been a surprise that George had agreed to help, or that he had come at all. After how I had spoken to him (even if it had been deserved) and everything Cormac had done, I thought he wouldn't speak to me for a while. He was even better a person than I had thought.

A knock at the door drew my attention. "Ma'am, someone from the Ministry is here to take a look at Mrs. McLaggen."

I stood quickly to greet the stranger. I'd thought I knew everyone from the Ministry, but I didn't recognize the young, sandy-haired man. "Thank you for coming," I said, shaking the man's hand.

"Of course, I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier." It was no wonder I didn't recognize the man, he was very much American. I watched on edge as he checked her over, gently turning her head and lifting her arms. He studied her face and pulled back her eyelids, revealing a bright blue tint. "Ah, good."

I asked, "Good?"

He smiled up at me, letting her eyes close. "Yes, very good. Mrs. McLaggen will be perfectly fine." He called to the Healer, asking her to bring a few potion ingredients and a cauldron. "It seems that she stumbled over a group of young Pixies. It's very rare outside of Cornwall, but not entirely impossible. They're not dangerous, just a bit mischievous. I'm going to brew something for her and she should be awake in six or so hours."

Relief washed over me at the news. She was alright. She was in no danger and Cormac would not lose another family member. In a few hours, she would be talking with her son, discussing a summer holiday or Easter plans, and their life will continue on as normal.

"Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. - ?"

"Scammender," he said. "But please, call me Rolf."

The Healer brought in the ingredients and cauldron and Rolf was very happy to show me how to brew the remedy. It was done quickly and I helped levitate Helen so he could give it to her. "It'll be about six hours before she wakes up. She will be completely fine, however, I will suggest to the Healers that she stays an additional twenty-four hours just to be sure."

"Again, thank you. Her son will be incredibly grateful when he wakes up," I told him as he cleaned up. "If you wouldn't mind me asking, how long have you been with the Ministry? If I recall, it was Sean who used to do the hospital calls for these types of things."

"It is still Sean, but he wasn't available until tomorrow. I actually work for MACUSA. I'm here for a few months doing research and training."

It explained why an American was working for the Ministry. "Well, I'll be sure to thank him for sending you."

He gave me a quizzical look. "Arthur Weasley and, I believe, his son actually asked me to come by. I don't think Sean even knows I'm here yet. Not sure if he'll be pleased he doesn't have to come or upset that I did his job. "

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that George had found another way to help. He'd always been resourceful and exceptionally talented at finding loopholes. "Of course they did." It wasn't possible to stop the smile that tugged on my lips. The man was too wonderful. Too perfect.


	31. Seven Years

**_Persephone_ **

"Cormac," I said softly. He snored on in blissful sleep. I tried again, louder. "Cormac." Nothing. Shaking him, I spoke into his ear, "Cormac!"

This finally dragged him out of sleep, though he nearly socked me for it. "Oi, sorry Pers!" He sat up from the couch and stretched out. His eyes quickly landed on his mum. "Anything?"

"She's going to be okay," I said, taking a seat next to him. He listened intently as I told him what had happened overnight, his serious expression never changing.

"Weasley really sent him?" His face scrunched as he let out a heavy sigh. "I can't believe he'd do that for me. Not after..."

"He did. Somehow, he did. It's what you Gryffindor's do, isn't it? Always coming to people's rescue."

A humorless laugh escaped him. "No, it's not. If I recall correctly, I've been the villain recently. Weasley, however, hasn't lost his savior complex." He looked over at me, not as happy as he should be considering he just found out his mum would be alright. "Neither have you, apparently. After everything I've done to you and put you through, you still came here with me. I'm sorry for it all. You didn't deserve any of it."

Cormac was always able to say just the right things, but what he said wasn't always honest. This was different, however. He looked and sounded repentant for what had happened. "No, I didn't. I know that I wasn't the best girlfriend and that we both made mistakes, but it was a bit harsh."

"It was more than 'a bit'," he said. He closed his hands around mine, running his thumbs across the back. "I was a horrible partner at the end. There were so many things I did wrong. In truth, I was trying to get your attention. It felt like you were pulling away or had lost interest in me. When nothing I did worked, I thought that if you saw that you were losing me then you would fight for us. It was a stupid, selfish mistake and I wish I could take it back."

"When you walked out that night, I thought you would come back or that I would see you at work the next day and we would work it out. It shouldn't have been a shock when I went back and found all of your clothes gone with a note in their place; I had given you every reason to leave. But it still felt like I had been blindsided. For months I thought you were going to come back. Then I heard him talking about you on the radio and I thought you were trying to make me jealous. It wasn't until I saw you on New Year's enjoying yourself that I realized you were moving on. My pride was hurt when I saw you with him, so I wanted to hurt you back."

Part of me could understand Cormac. I had been pulling away, trying less and less to make things work between us. It didn't excuse any of it, but at least I knew the reason everything had happened the way it did. "Thank you for telling me. I wish we both could have communicated better with each other; maybe we wouldn't have ended so terribly."

"Or maybe we wouldn't have ended at all," he said, with a hopeful tone. "I still love you, Persephone. If you gave me another chance, I swear I would never hurt you like I have again. I'd do better, be better for you."

"Cor," I whispered, "I - I still love and care for you. You were such an important part of my life and you helped get me through so much, I'll always love you because of it. But it's not the same kind of love I had for you before. I'm sorry."

He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, taking in the rejection. "You have nothing to apologize for, Pers. I knew it was a long shot. Weasley's a lucky man."

"I'm not with George."

He looked at me with a sad smile. "Not yet. There's a reason seeing you with him got me so upset. There's always been something between the two of you, whether you realize it or not. I've seen the way you two look at each other, it's only a matter of time. Hopefully, he'll figure it out sooner rather than later."

Any response I had was erased by the sound of sheets rustling. Helen was up.  
  
  


**_George_ **   
  


Sleep hadn't come to me last night. I had stared up at the ceiling for hours, my mind racing with disjointed thoughts. There hadn't been any news from Persephone and I didn't expect Rolf to break confidentiality. It wasn't until well past sunrise that I rolled out of bed, knowing that visiting hours had finally started.

The lobby was abuzz with visitors and I could see the reception desk swarmed with people. I threw a cheeky wave towards the same receptionist who had been very unhelpful the day before and went on my way. Just before reaching the room, I waited outside for a minute to see if I could hear any voices. I didn't want to burst in if they were in the middle of something. But I couldn't hear anything. I peered inside, hoping to catch Persephone's attention like I had last night. She wasn't in the room, however, but I could see McLaggen sitting at the bedside talking to a fully awake Mrs. McLaggen.

There was immediate regret as I made eye contact with McLaggen. My legs could not carry me away fast enough, as halfway down the corridor I heard him call out for me to wait. Several Healers further down looked my way, meaning it would be incredibly unlikely I could get away by claiming that I hadn't heard him. Still, it was tempting to walk away.

_"Don't be such a prat and go talk to him."_

I reluctantly turned to face him as he approached, unsure of what to expect. As he got closer, I could see that he seemed well-rested. She had asked me to bring her some of her Draught, but I had assumed it would be for her.

I apologized as soon as he was in earshot. "Look, I'm sorry for encroaching on you and your mum. I was just looking for Persephone."

"What? Oh, no it's fine," he said. "I wanted to thank you. She told me what you did, how you helped Mum. So, um, thank you."

An awkward silence followed. I didn't know what to say in response. It never occurred to me that Persephone would have found out I had helped send Rolf, but that woman was full of surprises.

"I know I've been unpleasant, so the fact that you went out of your way is...thank you."

I shrugged. "I've been where you were before. It's a terrible feeling not knowing if your parent will be alright. But to be honest, mate, you've been a total arse."

_"He's been a cunt."_

He looked down sheepishly. "Yeah, that's fair." Had he always been this short? "I've already sent a letter to Wizengamont to drop the charges. Never should have been filed in the first place. I deserved what I got after what I said to her."

And more.

"I was...I was jealous. I have been since the beginning. I saw the two of you dancing and how easily you made her laugh. And when you were the one that came to her rescue after she rejected me, I lost it. I'm sorry."

McLaggen was an egotistical tool, but he was still a human being with feelings. There was a longing in his voice when he talked about her, one I knew well. How could he have hurt her like he did when it was so clear how he felt?

"I know I don't really have any right to ask any favors of you, but take care of her. Be a better man than I was." They weren't together. It had to have been her decision considering how he talked about her and the pictures he still had on his wall.

Lee and Angelina had been pestering me for months to confess my feelings to Persephone. Even Mum had tried to slyly mention that she thought Vic was right. I'd always been held back by the thought that she hadn't completely gotten over McLaggen and that she may not share my feelings. At least I know now that she and McLaggen were completely done.

"I don't even know if I have a real chance. But whatever she wants me to be for her, whether it be a boss or friend or more, I'll be there for her."

"The two of you," he said, head shaking. "You should go see her. Maybe tell her what everyone else already knows. I think she said she was going to her parent's house." He tipped his head forward and walked back down the corridor, leaving me standing alone.

Maybe Lee and Ange were right and I just had to tell her how I felt. Well, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to confess my undying love for her before I knew if she at least liked me first. No, I would just admit that I have feelings for her first. I'd let her know that there were no expectations and no matter how she felt I would respect it. And then I would do just that: respect however she felt about me.

_"What'll happen at work if she rejects you?"_

Nothing. Everything would continue on as it has for the past few months.

_"Come on, Georgie. It wouldn't be the same. How are you going to feel seeing and working with her so often? How is she going to feel about it? Will she be fine with it? Or will it make her uncomfortable? What will you do if she starts seeing someone else?"_

So it might be awkward or weird at first, but we would get over it. And if she gets uncomfortable for any reason, I'll do whatever I can to fix it. If she starts seeing someone else...I'll just have to get over it.

_"You've had seven years to get over her. Yet here you are. If she rejects you it could cause a lot of problems, couldn't it?"_

Yes. Yes, it could. There are probably a hundred things that could go wrong. But I've waited - no. I've wasted seven years by not telling her anything. The moment I first talked to her back in Sixth Year, I knew she was special and every moment I've spent with her since has proven it. From the way she twirls her hair when she's in deep thought to the way she snorts when something is particularly funny, to how she'll only eat one food off her plate at a time, she's absolutely bewitched me. If there is even a minuscule chance that I could ever be her's, I'm going to take it. Who wouldn't take a chance to wake up next to an angel?

_"Alright, deep breath, brother. Save the monologue for your vows. Go get her."_

The confidence and enthusiasm I had died as quickly as it came as I stood in front of her childhood home. The reality that in a few minutes the entire dynamic between us would change crashed down on me hard. Even if things went well, who knew what would happen in a few years? I could lose her entirely.

_"Stop being a twit and go!"_

Fine. I'll do it.

My heart pounded in my chest as I walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. This was it. The door creaked open to reveal a rather tired looking, but still beautiful, Persephone.

And Mrs. Peters?

"George, hi! I wasn't expecting you. Um, you remember Mrs. Peters, right?"

"Yes," I said pulling my face into a smile, "it's nice to see you again, ma'am."

She looked me up and down, before returning my greeting. The way she eyed me was eerily similar to how an old professor watched Fred and me just before we were going to wreak havoc on the school for the final time and then simply walked away. "Anyways dear, I should head home and ring up Phillip to let him know the good news."

"Of course. I'll be by at noon on Tuesday to get started on the paperwork," Persephone told her as the old woman walked out the door and passed me down the steps. She gave a wave goodbye and soon disappeared into the house next door. Persephone gestured for me to come in and led me to the living room where I presume they had been conversing before.

"I really wasn't expecting you, thought I would get to your apartment before you even got up," she said as she took a seat on the couch.

It was a little past eight in the morning, normally I would still be in bed. "I couldn't really sleep."

She picked up her cuppa from the coffee table and smiled into it. "Too busy being a hero?"

"Well, yes, actually." Her musical laugh was too quickly drowned out by a sip of tea. "But, uh, yeah. I couldn't stop thinking about Mrs. McLaggen, so I did what I could. The real hero is Rolf. I saw that she had woken up."

She looked at me over her cup, her eyes shining. "While he certainly is a hero, it turns out she wasn't in any real danger. Worse that could have happened is it would have taken a few days for her to wake up. It would have been an emotional few days, but she would have been fine. In a way, I'm almost glad it happened. Terrible, I know, but it was nice to talk to Cormac. I think I finally got the closure I needed there." She took another sip. "And it made me realize that I was still holding on to the past instead of looking to the future. So, I'm making some changes. Again. Starting with this house."

"You're going to remodel?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I'm going to sell it. In fact, I already have a buyer. Everything should be complete in about a month." She took another sip.

This thought had only occurred to her a few hours before at most, and now she was already halfway done with the process. "That's a little quick, isn't it? Shouldn't you take more time before you decide to sell?"

She sat the cuppa down, still smiling. "There are a lot of good memories here. It's where I took my first steps, said my first words, took a poo in the toilet for the first time. It's where I spent fourteen wonderful Christmases. It's the only place that was ever home for me. But without the people who I made those memories, it's just a house. It's time for someone else to make it their home."

"Well, it seems like you have really thought it through. If this is what you want, I'll support it."

She took a moment to look around before sighing contentedly. "I have and it is. And I have an idea of what to do with the money."

I felt stupid as I had forgotten that you usually get money when you sell something. Muggle money was confusing and I couldn't guess the value of a house in the Muggle world to save my life. "What's that?"

She paused for a moment, seemingly hesitant. "I wanted to invest...in, um, the shop. Or shops, I guess."

Invest in the shop? My shop?

"I know...I know it's odd to invest in my own job, but I thought it might be nice for you to buy the Hogsmeade location instead of waiting a few more months for Gringott's to approve a loan, you know?"

So the house was worth at least the same as, but probably more than, the shop in Hogsmeade.

"So what do you think?"

I realized that I hadn't said anything about her wanting to invest in the business. What did I think about it? It made sense, it would open up more finances for other things. It would also give her more power in relation to the shop.

"I don't think you should be an investor," I said.

Her face dropped with disappointment. "Oh."

"I think you should become my partner."


	32. Different People In Different Worlds

**_Persephone - September 2nd, 1991_ **

Who in their right minds thought _moving staircases_ were a good idea in a school? Or at all? Honestly, how did anyone get anywhere in this place?

As the stairs finally stopped, I was already lost. I wanted to kick myself for deciding that I needed to go to the library without anyone else. It was only the second day of the year. I would have plenty of time to visit the library. But no, I just _had to go_ and I was too scared to ask if anyone wanted to come along. Sarah, the girl with the bed next to me, probably would have. She seemed rather nice and like she had a good sense of direction. If I ever made it back to the common room, I'd definitely ask her to come with me next time.

Of course, I did have to make it back to the common room first. Preferably without encountering Peeves or the Bloody Baron along the way. Which floor was this? Third? Sixth? Why wouldn't they have signs for First Years? I was seriously starting to question the sanity of the Founders as I roamed a few corridors tightly clutching my books, still completely confused as to where I was. Even more worrisome was that I didn't pass anyone. Was it already past curfew? It would be even harder to talk to people if they were upset at me for losing House Points so early into the year.

A loud banging from further down the corridor caught my attention and I debated whether to go towards or away from it. Going towards it could mean finding someone to help me get back to the Common Room or running into a Prefect or Professor and getting in trouble. Heading away could mean me wondering for a lot longer and still getting caught. Towards the sound I went.

"Really, you just had to go for the suit of armor? What if someone heard us?"

"Calm down. No one's around! And if they were, we'd see them coming! See look, there's no o- " The second voice cut off quickly before letting out a few words Mum would kill me for if I ever tried repeating.

"Hello?" I called out, pretty confident no one capable of deducting House Points would be so explicit. There was no answer. "I'm not trying to get you in trouble or anything. I need help finding my Common Room," I pleaded as I rounded the corner to where the noise had come from. My hopes of help fell as I saw it was empty.

"George!" a voice hissed before a lanky, red-headed boy stepped out from behind a tapestry further down.

"Come on Fred! Look at her! She's probably a First Year and got lost. We can't just let her wander around for Filch to find," he said looking at the spot he had just left.

Another boy, who looked exactly the same, appeared a few seconds later. "We've got a lot of things planned, though!" the second boy complained.

The first one shot his look-a-like a glare, causing the look-a-like to roll his eyes. "You can stay here with the map and get a head start. I'm going to help her back to her Common Room."

"If you get caught, I'm not going to bail you out!" The second one warned as the first one started walking towards me.

"It's fine, if I get caught I'll tell 'em I'm you," he called back over his shoulder. "Sorry 'bout him, he can be a prat at times," the boy said when he reached me. "So, which House are you in?"

"Ravenclaw," I muttered, my confidence from before completely gone.

He smiled down at me. "Ravenclaw, eh? It's not far, just up a couple of staircases. Come on." He started walking back the way he had come from. I hesitated. It didn't seem like the right way to go, given that the staircases were a few corridors back the way I had come from. He stopped a few feet away and turned to realize I wasn't following. "You coming?" The other boy had already vanished and had mentioned that no one else was up here. With no other option, I scurried after him.

My hopes of getting to bed were dashed as we came to a dead end. "Are we - are we going the right way?"

"We are. Just not your typical path," he said with a wink. He approached a small statue of some witch and pulled on her pointer finger. This caused the stone witch to slide forward a few feet, revealing a circular staircase behind her. "See?"

He had me head up before him and we climbed and climbed, around and around. It was almost enough to make me dizzy, but at least these stairs didn't move. There were no landings on the staircase, but the boy seemed to know it well enough as he had me stop and press one of the stones on the wall for it to open. It was a relief to see another spiral staircase that I recognized.

"Oh thank, Merlin," I said.

"It's George, actually," said the boy, leaning against the open passageway.

My cheeks warmed as I stuttered out a thank you. He gave a warm smile in response, telling me to be careful, and disappearing back into the stairwell. I bounded up the stairs, answered a surprisingly simple riddle, and entered the Common Room where I was met by a decidedly worried looking Sarah.

"Persephone!" she squeaked, nearly toppling me over as she squashed me in a hug. "I was so worried! I thought you had just come down here, but no one had seen you! So I waited and waited and you still weren't here after curfew!"

"Sorry, I wanted to go to the library and I got lost on the way back," I said. I had been right about her. She was very nice.

"You didn't get caught, did you?" asked Roger Davis, an older boy I had known for a few years thanks to his father working with my Mum.

I shook my head, not sure I should tell him about the boys. It didn't seem like they wanted anyone to know they were out there.

"Good. Next time take someone with you, alright? Or ask me." I promised I would, not wanting to repeat the chance of possibly being caught out past curfew. He turned to leave Sarah and me, but stopped and dug into his pocket. He pulled out a small, wrapped box. "Oh yeah, this is for you. Happy Birthday, Pers."

My face flushed again. I had celebrated my birthday a few days earlier with my parents and had specifically told them not to send any birthday gifts or cards so I could avoid the attention. I didn't think anyone else would remember. "Thanks," I whispered, quickly hiding the package as he walked away.

"It's your birthday?" Sarah asked quietly.

"Mhmm."

"Mine too," she said, even quieter. She looked sad and I couldn't help but wonder why.

Pulling the present back out, I offered it to her. "I have some sweets up in my trunk. Want to head up and we can open this together?"

We sat in my bed and talked and ate sweets. It turned out that she was in something called Foster Care in the Muggle world. She didn't really want to explain everything but, apparently, her parents had given her up when she was young because she was "too difficult" and had been living in dozens of different homes throughout the years. Because of this, her birthday was rarely celebrated.

"Well, from now on, we'll celebrate every birthday together," I told her. We stayed up half the night just talking and I felt safe enough telling her about my savior from earlier.

She grimaced as she ate one of the Every Flavor Beans. "Were they cute?"

My face burned once more for the night. "Yeah. I mean, the one who helped me was, at least."

"But they were twins, right?" she asked, reaching for another bean. "If one is cute, so is the other."

Not as adventurous as Sarah's appetite, I stuck with my safe option of a Sugar Quill. "I guess they do look the same."

"Do you think you'd be able to tell them apart next time you see them?"

I chewed thoughtfully for a minute. Would I be able to? "Maybe."

That Saturday, Sarah decided to test whether I could or not. Walking down to breakfast, she spotted the twins talking with some people outside the Great Hall. "So which one is George?"

Looking hard for a moment between the two of them, I tried to decide who was who. "The one on the right."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He had the same warm smile on his face as he had a few nights previous.

"Let's see," she said with a wicked grin. "GEORGE!"

Her scream could easily be heard across the large room and I pulled her behind the large statue next to us. I peeked to see the twin on the right looking around for who had shouted. Sarah was holding her hands over her mouth so she wouldn't laugh out loud. "What the hell, Sarah?"

"I wanted to see if you were right!" she cackled next to me. "And you were!"

"Give me a bit of warning next time, would you?"

She chuckled again and peeked around to see he was no longer looking our way. She looped her arm through mine and dragged me towards the dining hall. "Loosen up, Pers!"  
  
  


**_George - November 24, 1994_ **

"Place your bets here!"

"Bets here!

"Who will win?"

"Who will die?"

The crowd in the stands was starting to slowly fill up as students filed out of the castle. Fred and I had skipped lunch to get the best seats, ones that were in full view of students entering the stands, but hidden from the sight of the professors while also having a clear view of where the action would take place. My stomach rumbled in protest, but it had been a necessary sacrifice to hopefully get the most bets. After Bagman cheated us out of our winnings from the World Cup, every Knut counted if we ever wanted to open our shop.

"Come place your bets!"

Dozens of people had already placed bets throughout the morning, with people from all three schools leaning heavily towards Krum as the winner. Diggory and Delacour got decent support from their schools, but so far we'd only taken one bet in regards to Harry. It was from Malfoy who bet ten galleons that Harry would give up before completing the task. Git.

"Don't be shy! Three lads, one lady! Place your bets!"

We finished taking bets from a group of seventh years girls, with Fred flirting unabashedly flirting with the lot. "You can save the flirting for when we're not working," I chastised. We had a lot at stake if we didn't at least make up the money we had lost to Bagman.

"I wasn't flirting, I was just chatting with customers," he said with a smirk.

It was a load of rubbish, but I let it slide as we took a few more bets for Krum. The crowd was nearly all settled in when I could barely overhear the conversation of two approaching girls.

"Come on, it'll be fun," one encouraged as she dragged her friend along with their intertwined arms.

The other replied, "I'm pretty sure it's illegal." She wore an exasperated look on her face, a sharp contrast to the soft features of it. Despite being wrapped in a coat and scarf, her nose and cheeks were still bright pink from the cold.

"It's only illegal if we get caught," I told her with a wink. Her stare, which had been trained on the first girl, turned to me. The stream of sunlight she stood in danced in her eyes, highlighting each unique shade in them.

"Technically," she said with a hint of a smile, "it's always illegal. You just won't get in trouble unless you're caught." Her face seemed to turn a shade redder as she spoke.

Fred leaned in with his smirk still plastered across his face. "And we haven't gotten caught in years. So what can we help you lovely ladies with?" Could he stop flirting for once in his life?

The first girl unhooked herself from her friend and bounded up the last couple of steps. She asked him a few questions, but I was too focused on her friend to listen. Her friend followed behind her, rolling her eyes at something the other had said. I couldn't recall ever seeing her before and wondered if she was from one of the other schools.

"Come on, now, I'm sure it would be a little fun for you to do something that's a little illegal. Only thing it might hurt is your pocket." This earned me a real smile from her.

She approached our makeshift table and studied the sign with the odds. "Why does Harry have the worst odds?" She asked.

"He's got the least experience of the four. Being the youngest with the least schooling, ya know?"

"Least experience?" she laughed. "Isn't he the only one who actually has any real world experience? He's fought You-Know-Who three times and WON. Not to mention the giant snake he killed and being able to survive a werewolf attack. Krum may be a great Seeker, but he's never actually fought anything trying to kill him. Same for Cedric."

Fred apparently finished helping her friend, leaned over again with his all too friendly smile. "Well, if you're so confident in Harry, why don't you place a couple Sickles on him?"

"Yeah, come on Pers! Have a little fun," her friend giggled at her side.

Pers, as her friend had called her, looked from her to Fred, before landing back on me. "Have a little fun," I encouraged with a nod.

She rolled her eyes but smiled as she reached into the pocket of her robe. "Alright then. Two Galleons on Harry," she said, laying the two gold coins on the counter.

"Really putting your money where your mouth is, eh?" Fred teased.

She gave a little shrug, still looking at me.

"Alright then, and who will we be sending the winnings to?" I asked, meeting her gaze.

"Persephone. Persephone Dankworth."

"Fourth year Ravenclaw, just like your friend here?" Fred asks, writing up her ticket already. Annoyance flared up. Couldn't he let me do this one by myself?

She nodded to him, taking the ticket as he finished. The two Ravenclaws said goodbye and I watched as they walked further up into the stands, joining a group of giggling girls. With them well out of earshot, I smacked my brother's arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" He barked, rubbing his arm.

"Do you have to flirt with everything on two feet?" I asked.

"No. Only the pretty ones," he laughed. It died quickly as he noticed I didn't join him. "What? Am I not allowed - oh! You've got a crush!"

I elbowed him again, harder. "Shut it. You don't need to shout, mate!"

"Uhuhuhu!" He poked into my side. "'Bout time! I thought you'd wind up a loner like Charlie!"

Swatting his hand away, I glanced back up into the stands, seeing Persephone intently listening to her friends. Even this far away, I could still see the rosiness of her cheeks. "Calm down, calm down. It's not a crush, I just met the girl. But yeah, she is quite pretty, isn't she? Smart too, with what she said about Harry."

Fred gave a rough pat on my back, bringing me back to reality and forcing myself to look away. "This is how it starts. This is how I lose my twin to a girl." He shook his head, an exaggerated solemn expression on his face.

His shit-eating grin returned as I gave him a push. "Shove off!"

  
  
  
**_Persephone, March 1st, 1996_ **

"Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing. Not even a tiny little wisp. Half of the DA had already produced full fledged Patronuses and the other at least produced _something_. But no matter what I did, no matter what memory I used, nothing came out. In the years I'd been at Hogwarts, I had never struggled this much with anything. If I didn't get it the first try, I would on the second or third attempt. It never took me days to get something right.

"Maybe we should ask Harry for help," Sarah offered. Not that she needed any help. It was easy to see that she was holding back when she cast her own Patronus. With my permission, she went and fetched him. A few minutes later, she returned with him in tow.

He watched as each of us attempted the spell. Well, as _I_ attempted the spell and she cast it. He gave us pointers, but nothing helped. She seemed adamant not to cast a corporeal Patronus in front of me. After seeing her ignoring all of his tips and giving me cautious glances every time she produced anything, Harry must have realized what I had.

"Alright, how about I set you up with someone who's already cast theirs, Sarah? And I can keep practicing with Persephone." She reluctantly agreed. Harry looked around the room for a moment, spotting who he was looking for. "Fred!" he called out, waving him over.

Fred, who had been with George and Lee, strode over with his usual grin in place. "What can I do for ya, Harry?"

"Would you mind helping Sarah here practice her Patronus?" talk

"Not a problem, mate. What about Persephone? Need anyone for her?" He asked tilting his head in the direction he had come from.

"Oh no, I'm going to be with her, thanks," Harry told him, already turning back towards me.

"You know, actually, uh, Lee had something important to tell you."

Harry waved it off saying that he could tell him in the Common Room later.

Fred stepped between us and said, "Actually, it's a bit time sensitive. Probably should go to him now. Don't worry though, George can help her out. He definitely won't mind."

No. Nonononononononono. Anyone but him. Literally anyone other than George freaking Weasley. It was too late, however, as Fred called him over and Lee gave him a shove in our direction. Harry gave me an apologetic smile, promising he'd be back in a few minutes. I wanted to beg him not to go or say that I would wait for him instead, but he was gone before I could form any words.

I looked to Sarah for help. Sarah, being Sarah, seemed to think my personal hell was a brilliant idea. She gave me a small push towards George, an encouraging expression on her face. Her friendly encouragement was met with a glare. She didn't mind at all and mouthed "Go talk to him!" as she walked away with the other twin.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to George and hoped I wouldn't embarrass myself more than necessary. "So," he started, "we're working on our Patronuses, right?"

"Yeah," I said. We were both aware that I was the only one who needed to practice, but it was still sweet of him to try to make it seem like we both needed it.

"Ladies first."

My eyes closed as I tried to recall visiting Granny in the country when I was little. Mum would take me on walks through the small town center and Dad would moo at every cow we passed. Granny always made the best pastries and her house always smelled amazing. Dad would read me his favorite bedtime story about the Three Brothers. Mum would give me a kiss and tuck me in snug. It was probably one of the happiest times of my life.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing. Every exceptionally happy moment was tainted by death. They served as bitter reminders that I would never get another cherished memory with Mum. It'd been more than a year, but the hole she left hadn't healed. And it had broken Dad. He tried so hard not to let it show, but I could see the pain in his eyes whenever he smiled.

George, always the gentleman, said it was a good effort and encouraged me to try again. I thought of my fifth birthday when we went to the house by the sea. Nothing. Again, this time thinking about my eighth Christmas. Nothing. Again, about getting my wand. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"This is hopeless," I told him.

"No, it's not. I know that you can do this. Is it okay if I ask what memory you're using?"

"It's always different. Mostly family stuff. Nothing seems to work though." I pulled the hair tie out of my hair, hoping it would relieve my headache that had been forming. It didn't.

He coughed into his hand as I looked back up at him and straightened up. "Okay, how about we try something other than family stuff?" He paused. "Maybe your first kiss?"

A loud snort came out at that.

He gave a grin. "Or maybe not. How about a memory with Sarah? You two are close, right?"

She was my best friend. There was the time she nearly got us both killed on the Astronomy Tower. Or when she thought it would be a good idea to make fun of Professor Snape in Potions. Or that time she tried to brew a love potion in Second Year to give to Lockheart. They were all great memories, but there was one that was better. The night we became friends.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Silvery mist shot out of my wand.

"I did it!" I nearly yelled, clutching George's wrist and looking back up at him with excitement.

He returned my excited smile and congratulated me. "Think you can do it again?"

I nodded, sure I could. I closed my eyes and held my wand out again.

"Hold on," George said.

My eyes opened to see him step behind me. He used his foot to move mine a little further apart, giving me a wider stance. His hand guided my arm a further down before moving up to change how I gripped my wand. "Okay," he said into my ear, "this time I want you to dig really deep. Think about that one moment and just hold on to it."

I felt him slip away, but I could still feel tingling where his hand had touched mine. That moment. That one moment. Once more, I shut my eyes and pictured a happy memory. But this time, the memory was fresh.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Out of my wand flew a stunning silver raven. It cawed and flapped its wings before soaring around the room.

"I can't believe it. I _really_ did it."

He put his arm around me, admiring the bird as it circled. "You _really_ did. And look at that, we both got birds."

"A magpie, right?"

The raven dived into the floor and disappeared. "Yep. Fred too. You know the saying: One for sorrow, two for joy?"

"I thought that was about ravens?"

"Nope, definitely about magpies." He pulled me in a bit before letting me go. It seemed like he had more to say, but Harry decided it was the perfect time to fulfill his promise and come back.

"Was that your raven"?" he asked, looking impressed when I confirmed it was. "Maybe George should be teaching the class."

Several of the DA members who had seen me struggling earlier, followed in Harry's footsteps and came and congratulated me. Sarah thankfully rescued me from the onslaught and dragged me over to a quiet corner.

"He was totally hitting on you," she squealed.

Sarah wanted me to believe that George liked me. She'd been insistent on the supposed fact since the First Task even though this was the first time he had spoken to me since. "No, he wasn't. He's just being George. He's a nice, helpful guy. It's kind of the whole reason I like him."

She looked at me like I was an idiot. "Come on, Pers! Even Fred kept looking at you guys!"

"Knowing what Fred is like, he probably thought he was making George suffer by having to help me."

"You're unbelievable. He literally put his arm around you at the end! Jeez, what does the man have to do? Spell it out for you?"

"He could just tell me. But he hasn't and we don't even talk. Trust me, he's not interested in me." Looking back at him now, he was with his brother and friends talking and laughing just like before. "See?"

She shook her head at me, probably wishing I would just do what she would and go p and talk to him again. But I couldn't. It would be harder to get over a stupid crush if I actually was around him and talked to him knowing he would never like me back. No, it was better at a distance. After he leaves Hogwarts at the end of the year, I would move on. We'd probably never even see each other except in passing in the real world. We were two very different people living very different lives.  
  
  
  
  


**_George - August 3rd, 1996_ **

"But I'm your brother!" Ron protested.

Fred and I shared a look and said in unison, "Ten Galleons."

He walked away bitterly with Harry in tow. Fred and I headed to the top of the stairs to look over our dream in action. The shop was a smashing success. For years, we had been called childish and told that we would never make it in the world if we didn't buckle down like our brothers had. We were still absolutely childish, but we had proven beyond doubt that we didn't need to be anybody but ourselves to find success.

"Pinch me, George, I must be dream- Ow! It was a figure of speech!"

"Guess I haven't heard that one before," I told him as he rubbed his arm. "I still can't believe we did it, Freddie. We made it. Filch has already started banning our items and school hasn't even started yet."

"Were on top of the world Georgie. We can have anything we want." Fred nudged me and pointed down near the front of the shop. "Speaking of anything we want, look who just walked in."

Persephone and her friend Sarah had just walked into the crowded shop. It had been months since I'd last seen her, but she was just as pretty as I remembered. Prettier even. Part of me kicked myself when I left Hogwarts without saying goodbye to her specifically. But it wouldn't have meant anything to her if I had. We'd rarely spoken and, while she was certainly friendly, she didn't seem to have any interest in actually being friends.

"She cut her hair," I noted. A few inches at least.

"Are you ever going to stop being a creepy stalker and actually talk to the girl?" Fred asked. He had been trying to get me to talk to her for as long as I had liked her, but I just couldn't.

"She and I are in different worlds, Fred. She's a straight-laced, by-the-book kind of girl. I'm chaos compared to her."

He looked at me and gave an exaggerated eye roll. "She was in the DA, I wouldn't consider that very 'by-the-book'. And who knows, maybe she has a wild side you haven't seen. You'll never know if you two actually have a chance unless you actually give the two of you a chance."

Just as quickly as she had come, she and her friend left the shop after browsing quickly. My heart sank a little as she walked out and disappeared into the street. It wasn't surprising that she left so quickly. She belonged in Flourish and Blott's with a guy who could recite each goblin war by heart, not some joke shop with me. It would probably be the last time I see her, except maybe in passing when we're both out and about in the world after she graduates. Unlike the shop, she was a dream that would never come true.


	33. Red Dress

"I think you should become my partner."

The world stopped. _Partner_. He had said he wanted me to be his _partner_. "Partner?"

"Business partner," he clarified.

Words escaped me as I stared at George. I had thought convincing him to let me invest would be difficult, I'd never imagined that he would offer a partnership. It'd been, what, six months that I'd be working for him? Maybe five months actually working together subtracting the four or so weeks he had been hidden in his loft. It didn't seem like enough time for him to be willing to share the business he built with his brother, even if I paid for it. Sure, we had technically known each other for over a decade now and fought in a war together. But before I was his employee we had only ever had three brief conversations spread out across five years.

"I- I don't know, George. This is something you built with Fred. I don't think an outsider like me, one who didn't even use any of your joke items before, would be good as a partner. Not yet."  
  


His slanted grin graced his face. "Well, I, as Fred's twin, can attest that he would think you'd be the perfect choice in a partner." His gaze lingered on his hands for a moment before looking back at me. "You did more in the months you've been at the shop than I did in years. You are the reason that the shop is still going, the reason I finally stopped shutting out the world. Yes, you would be a very different partner from Fred, but you'd be just as good."  
  


My mouth opened and closed, no words able to come out. Partners. Equals. We wouldn't be boss and employee anymore. Still, it was hard to believe. "But it's Weasleys Wizard Wheezes."

"I think Mum and Dad have practically adopted you. Especially after that stunt you pulled with those Warbeck tickets. Honestly, you're basically a Weasley. You even have the sweater to prove it." George was adamant. "I won't accept any money from you unless you agree to be my partner."

"Fine," I agreed. "But we need an impartial third party to go over the books and decide a fair price. No low balling your business."

"We have a deal then," George said, offering his hand. I took it, shaking his hand until a devilish grin spread on his face and he pulled me across the couch into a bone-crushing hug. We laughed childishly as he held me in his lap, fully ignoring how unprofessional and intimate our embrace was. Maybe Cormac had been right.

The following week was a blur. Between the house and the partnership and normal work, I hadn't had any free time. George and I had barely had a second to talk about anything besides business. Still, he managed to leave my heart in flutters with lingering hugs and softly spoken compliments. Every day, it was easier to believe that he might have feelings for me too. Between the little jokes and coy winks, I knew that the second the partnership was signed I would finally tell him. A few weeks to wait was nothing compared to the decade I'd already been silent.

Early Saturday, I headed to Bill and Fleur's cottage. Fleur had recently been promoted at Gringott's and was now working in their Muggle Exchange department, particularly focused on helping witches and wizards receiving or sending large sums of Muggle money. Like selling a house.

"Sephney! Sephney!" a little voice called out.

Little Victoire ran out the front door of her home as fast as her little legs would allow until she ran into my legs and wrapped her tiny arms around them. "Sephney, I missed you!"

Taking her into my arms and carrying her back inside, I told her I'd missed her too.

"So - so Mummy told me that - that you and Georgie are together and buying a house!" she squealed in delight. "Does this mean you're my aunt now?"  
  


"Well,- I, that's not," I stuttered.

She wiggled out of my grip as I tried to talk and ran to the table and back, bring along a piece of parchment with her. "See! I drew a picture! This, this is you! And this is George! And - and this is your house! See!"

"Victoire!" Bill came from another room looking exasperated. "That isn't what Mummy told you. She said that they're _business_ partners and that Persephone is selling a house."

"Oh," she said looking sad. "So Sephney isn't going to be my aunt?"

My heart broke at the sight of the little girl. "No, but I really love your drawing," I told her as knelled down in front of her. "I'm going to hang it up in my office."

"Really?"

I pushed her hair back out of her face. "Really."

She wrapped her arms around my neck as she giggled happily. Bill, with a grateful smile, ushered her out of the room, but only after she made sure I had her drawing. Fleur swept into the room a minute later, apologizing profusely.

"And I zink zat iz all!" Fleur said as she helped compile all of the parchment she had given me, keeping the Muggle papers separate.

"Thank you, I'll be so happy when this is finally done." Vic's drawing was heavy in my pocket. _Soon_.

She gave a brilliant smile. "Zo, are you ready for ze gala?"

My heavy sigh gave her the answer. "No. I'm going dress shopping tomorrow with Ginny and Hermione and, hopefully, I'll have time somewhere to actually write my speech."

"And are you taking a date?" She asked.

"Oh, um, no. No date."

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. "You are not going with George?"

"I mean, he's not my date or anything, but I'm sure we'll, you know, hang out and stuff when we're there. But, yeah, no, um, not a date." Smooth, real smooth Persephone. There was nothing suspicious about that.

She gave me a knowing smile, placing her hand over mine. "You know, Molly and Arthur were very ezited when zey heard zat you were now George's partner. Zey zink of you like a daughter already. Clearly, Vicky would be very happy to call you an aunt. And, I zink zat Bill and I would very much like it, too."

What she said echoed what George had said, but Fleur's confession held more weight. My eyes watered at the implication. They wanted me in their family. And I wanted to be a part of it beyond just me wanting George. Every single Weasley had been welcoming and kind, some even going as far as hexing a man in public for me.

I left shortly after, promising little Victoire I'd see her soon. As I dropped off the papers at home, my mind raced with the knowledge that I wasn't the only person rooting for George and me. If they wanted us to happen and if Cormac even saw it, then it had to be real. It had to be real.

"What about this one?" Ginny asked, spinning on the platform in front of us. The emerald gown fit her snuggly in all the right places with a daring amount of cleavage.

"You look stunning," I told her.

She put her hands on her hips. "You've said that about four dresses now."

I shrugged. "It's not my fault that you look drop dead gorgeous in everything you try on."

She fought the smile on her face, but ultimately failed and turned to Hermione, whose opinion was more, well, opinionated. "She's right on this one, Gin. Honestly, I'd be surprised if you even made it to the gala after Harry sees you in it."

Ginny smiled wickedly as she faced herself in the mirror. After contemplating for a moment more, she decided that the dress was the one. Hermione, who had been able to decide on a lovely lilac dress in the first half hour of looking, scanned the racks as Ginny headed back to change.

"You'll never find a dress if you don't look for one," she warned over her shoulder as I stared out at the street.

"I know," I said. It wasn't that I didn't want to find a dress, I did. But it was too hard to focus on anything other than the shop further down the street where every so often a flash of red hair would go past the windows.

It'd been more than twenty four hours since I'd seen him and it'd be several more before I saw him again. It felt too long to wait and I contemplated whether or not I should walk over and see him for a few minutes to help ease the longing. A few minutes where I could hear his voice, his laugh, or watch him smile would make it easier to focus on finding a gown.

"Whacha you looking at?" Ginny asked beside me.

I flinched, having not heard her approach. I rushed out, "Nothing."

It was too late. She had caught me staring at the shop and Hermione joined seconds later. Both their eyes flickered between me and the shop, their eyebrows raising as they saw George passing by. "Nothing, eh?"

My face flushed as I stuttered out an excuse about being worried the shop was too busy. Neither looked like they bought it. They finished the purchases and herded me out of the store. For a brief, horrifying moment, I thought they were going to march me over to the shop and tell George I'd been practically stalking him from the window. Instead, their arms intertwined in mine and Hermione spun us with a loud crack.

As our feet hit the ground again, we were in an alley of a street I didn't recognize. The street looked to be packed with Muggles going on about their lives, none of them noticing the three women who had appeared from nowhere only a few yards from them. Hermione pulled us opposite from the busy street, further down the alley to a dull blue door. She knocked twice before an older woman with getting hair and cat eye glasses opened the door.

"Hermione! Oh, sweetie hi! What are you doing here?" the woman exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Hi Mrs. Roberts. I know it's last minute and we didn't make an appointment, but I was hoping you could help us?"

She smiled widely. "Oh, anything for you, dear! Come in, come in!" The woman ushered us in through the door into a room filled with fabrics seemingly seeing themselves together on mannequins with thread and scissors flying this way and that. All of the things they were sewing were white dresses.

"Where are we?" I whispered to Hermione as we were led through the room to another door.

"Diedra's Bridal."

"Why?"

Ginny responded for her, "To get you a dress without any _work_ distractions."

Oh. "But why a bridal shop?"

The woman, Mrs. Roberts, smiled back at me as she opened the second door. "I have much more to offer than wedding dresses." Behind her was a room with a seemingly endless amount of dresses. Half the room was various shades of whites and creams while the other had more colors than a rainbow. The woman and Hermione spoke briefly while I examined some of the nonbridal dresses on display, actively avoiding looking at brilliant white ones on the opposite side. Ginny, however, was not shy to openly peruse the gowns.

"So what were we thinking for her?" Mrs. Roberts asked, looking me up and down.

"Something that'll make her stand out," Ginny said over her shoulder as she held out the skirt of an ivory dress. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Or maybe something, um, understated?"

My suggestion was ignored as the three congregated around me talking about what colors were okay, the best styles, etc. Mrs. Roberts began waving her wand to pull out different gowns, having them float next to me while the women decided whether or not I should try it on. Within a couple of minutes, they already had an alarmingly growing pile of 'maybe' dresses that they wanted to see me in.

"Not blue," I said. There were at least a dozen gowns in different shades of blue in the pile. "I wore enough blue in my life."

Mrs. Roberts looked between me and the pile. "No blue, then." Blue dresses flew out of the pile, cutting it down a bit. "Anything else we should take out?"

All of it? "Purple and green. Wouldn't want to clash." As much as I would love to wear purple, Hermione had already gotten her dress and she looked gorgeous in it.

The pile was half the size as before, but it still seemed like a headache to try on every single one. "I think we should stick with red," Ginny said. She smirked and added, "That's George's favorite color."

It also quickly became the color of my face. They definitely knew. Did everyone know?

The pile dwindled to only a handful of dresses which I graciously accepted to try on. None of them, however, seemed to work. As I stepped out of the last one, frustrated with myself for being so picky, I heard metal clink and Mrs. Roberts called out that they had found one more for me to try. Reluctantly, I reached out past the curtain to grab the dress that she had left on the hook outside.

As I pulled it back in, the crimson, glittering material entranced me. With every sway of the fabric, it gleaned and sparkled unlike anything I'd ever seen. Watching myself in the mirror, I was unexpectedly infatuated with it. The cowl neck wasn't as daring as Ginny's, but still low enough to have upset my parents while the thigh-high slit was high enough to tease anyone who stared too long. But my absolute favorite part of the dress was the back - or the fact that there wasn't one.

Excited squeals escaped the women as I exited the dressing room, them taking in the full view of the front. It wasn't until I stepped on the podium that shocked gasps sounded from them. All of the scars I had spent years hiding were on full display, impossible to ignore as the redness of them matched almost perfectly with the gown itself. Not even a month ago I would have never even considered trying a dress on like this. I would have been too afraid of all the questions, afraid of the person who had caused them. Now? Now I wasn't afraid.

"It's perfect."


	34. Preparing For A Fight

**_May 1st, 1998_ **

Despite knowing that a battle for the school would probably lead to You-Know...to Voldemort coming to quell such a rebellion, it still felt like I'd had cold water pour over me. Voldemort's on his way. He'd be here soon too, according to Harry. It was another terrifying realization that Harry was somehow connected to that monster. After that and everything else he'd been through, it was a miracle his mind hadn't broken. Mine certainly would have.

I listened in silence as he and McGonagall spoke, deciding to evacuate the castle so Harry could find what he was looking for. "Come," she said after bounding the Carrows and dangling them from the ceiling. "We must alert the other Heads of House. You'd better put that cloak back on."

She marched towards the door as she cast a Patronus. Three silver cats with spectacle markings burst from her wand, running gracefully down the stairs and lighting them as we scurried behind. We hurried along the corridors, each cat leaving us one by one.

We were two floors down when McGonagall stopped, raising her wand. "Who's there?

"It is I," said a low voice. Snape stepped out from behind a suit of armour. Like always, he was wearing his black robes. He also had his wand ready for a fight. "Where are the Carrows?"

The three of us under the Cloak tried to steal our breath as the two professors spoke. Snape was paying too much attention to the empty air around McGonagall for him not to be aware that we were there. "Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, i must insist -"

I watched in awe as McGonagall's wand cut through the air with a speed I did not know she was capable of, dismayed that Snape had been able to cast a Shield Charm that knocked her off balance. The two duelled, reversing each others spells and sending them back at one another. Snape took shelter behind the same suit of armour he had appeared from as she sent daggers flying towards him.

"Minerva!" a comfortingly familiar voice squeaked from down the corridor. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were sprinting up the corridor while Professor Slughorn was much further down trying to catch up. "No! You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

His spell hit the suit of armour Snape was hiding behind. It came to life, attempting to crush the traitor in its arms only for him to break free and send it shooting towards us. Harry managed to grab Luna and I and get us out of the way before it smashed into the wall and shattered. Snape ran, the three Professors all hot on his heels. He disappeared into a classroom and a moment later we could hear McGonagall shout, "Coward! Coward!"

We sped after them, letting the Cloak slide off us. The professors were standing at a smashed window. "He jumped," McGonagall said as we came into the room. There were gasps from the other professors at our sudden appearance. "Unfortunately, he still had his wand." In the distance I could see a large, bat-like shape gliding towards the forest.

Slughorn arrived, panting heavily, and was as shocked as the others on Harry's appearance. "Harry! My dear boy...what a surprise...Minerva...please explain?"

McGonagall looked to Harry, who nodded at her while clutching at his scar. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming. Potter has work to do in the castle on Dumbledore's orders. We need to protect Hogwarts to the best of our ability so that he may do what he needs to do."

"You realize that we will not be able to keep him out indefinitely?" Flitwick asked.

Professor Sprout responded, "Maybe not, but we can hold him up."

"Thank you, Pomona." A look of grim understanding passed between the two elder witches. "I suggest we establish around the place then gather our students and meet in the Great Hall. Most will need to be evacuated, but those of age and wish to stay and fight ought to be given the chance."

Professor Sprout, who was already jogging out the door, agreed and said she would be in the Great Hall in twenty minutes with her students. She muttered about all of her favorite plants she would love to see the Death Eaters fight.

"I can act from here," Flitwick said, and pointed his wand out the window he could barely see out of.

Joining him by the window and pointing my own wand, I said, "I can help, Professor." He gave a small, appreciative nod and began muttering incantations of great complexity. After a moment, I recognized the spell as one that had been in the small book of spells that had mysteriously appeared in my trunk months back. Ravenclaws were always planning ahead.

"Professor," Harry said, standing behind the two of us, "Professor, I'm sorry to interrupt, but have you got any idea where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"

As I suspected, Flitwick hadn't seen or had any idea where the diadem could be. It hadn't been seen by anyone in living memory. An oddly specific term, considering even the Grey Lady had told many Ravenclaws she'd never seen it either.

"We shall meet you and your Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, Filius!" Professor McGonagall shouted, leading Harry and Luna out the room. I could vaguely hear Slughorn and later Argus, but Flitwick and I focused on producing as many Protection Charms as we could.

"I'm going to gather the students," he said a few minutes later, turning towards the door. "Get a few more up and then head to the Great Hall, Miss Dankworth."

"Professor, you should know that the Carrows are currently dangling from the ceiling in the Common Room. Professor McGonagall has their wands, so they shouldn't be an issue."

He stopped and looked up at me, a twinkle in his eyes. "In case we do not get to speak later, I want you to know how sorry I am. After everything you've been through this year, with those horrid people...and what happened to Erasmus and Sarah," he paused, taking a deep breath, and continued, "I am sorry I could not do more for you, that I could not help you."

I swallowed down the emotions welling in my throat. Now wasn't the time. "We're in a war, Professor. People will get hurt and people will die. You did what you could to protect the others and so did I. I chose my role. I knew the risks."

"You are very much like your mother. Carwyn would be incredibly proud of you, just as I am." With that finale statement he sprinted out of the room, leaving me to continue the work of protecting the school.

I'd managed to arrive in the Hall before a majority of the students, heading towards the front where Professor Sprout was speaking with Madams Hooch, Pomfrey, and Pince and Professors Vector and Sinistra. I listened as she quickly assigned duties and they quickly rushed off.

Before I could offer additional assistance, sound of my name made my head snap to the front of the Hall. Cormac was running towards me. "You said you'd be right back!" He was slightly breathless as he spoke, as if he'd run the entire way.

"I'm sorry, I was helping Professor Flitwick cast extra protections."

He ran his hands through his hair, flustered. "I know, Luna mentioned it. But the Carrows, Snape. If they had gotten you..."

A smile tugged at my lips. "Snape fled. And the Carrows...well, they're a bit tied up right now. No need to worry about them."

He shook his head. "I was worried about you. You make it seem like you have a death wish, throwing yourself into any risky situation you can find. I'm rather fond of having you around, you know?"

McGonagall cleared her throat behind us. "Mr. McLaggen, I'm afraid whatever confession you wish to make must be postponed. Please take a seat at your respective tables." She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Ignoring her order, he said, "Professor, I think we have some things that might be able to help."

She was quite impressed when we told her of the things we had created. We were allowed to retrieve the items and told to report directly to Kingsley Shaklebolt when we returned.

Cormac looked over the crowd that we'd have to fight through and groaned. "I just ran down the stairs, now I have to go back up only to come back down again?"

"If I recall," I said smiling, "Someone told me you were the fastest of us all. Legs or broom."

He chuckled as he looked down at me again. "Like I said, you're bloody brilliant, Pers."

Riding the broom this time around was a far better experience than the last. For one, I hadn't just been tortured by a Death Eater. At least not yet. And two, being close to Cormac was rather pleasant. How he'd managed to keep in shape during this last year was a mystery, but I had no intentions of complaining.

People pointed and made comments as we flew over their heads and up the stairs to the room. Cormac was a talented flyer and made sure to show off once we'd passed most people. As we got to the door, he slowed, letting me dismount before doing so himself.

Looking back at him as I went through the open door, I warned, "If you try to flip us on our way down, I swear I- oh! Sorry!"

Not paying attention to where I was walking had made me bump into someone. I met the eyes of a man I hadn't spoken to in over two years. "Not a problem, Persephone."

George Weasley was even better up close. And he even smelled wonderful. He was smiling his usual, charming smile and I could feel my face redden under his gaze. He looked just like he had before, minus an ear.

"George! What's the hold up!" Fred's voice sounded from behind him, his face appearing behind his brother's a second later. "Ah, look at that! Our favorite Ravenclaw! Good to see you again, Dankworth!"

"Likewise, Fred," I said, giving him a kind smile. They remembered me.

An arm around my shoulder reminded me I wasn't alone. "What, no hello for me?" Cormac asked.

The twins eyes fell on his arm at my shoulder and looked between the two of us. "It's, uh, it's good to see you too, McLaggen," George said unconvincingly. His words were followed by a snort from Fred.

"Well, then. We'll go ahead and let you two through," Cormac said. His tone was tight, but he was gentle as encouraged me to take a couple steps back with him.

The twins stepped past us, each wearing expressions I couldn't remember seeing on their faces before. Fred looked confused. And George looked...sad? No. He looked disappointed. He and his brother must have heard about Cormac's less than stellar reputation.

Sure, Cormac had done some pretty shitty things thanks to an inflated ego, but, despite his behavior in the beginning, he wasn't that person anymore. He was good and kind, the person who had saved my life. Without him, it was very likely I wouldn't have made it back from the first run to the kitchen. I don't know if I really would have wanted to.

"Let's go, Cor," I said, pulling his arm around to hold his hand. Whatever happened, I wanted him to know that I was there for him just like he had been for me.

His face softened and he let me pull him through the doorway where we saw several other Weasleys, including Ginny who I gave a wave to. She looked rather tiffed.

We returned to the Great Hall with bags of cloaks and defensive items, hearing Professor McGonagall. "We have already placed protections around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move and calmly, and do as your prefects -"

Her voice was drowned out as a high, cold voice that echoed through the walls.

"I know you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me." Terrified students screamed, clinging to whomever was closest and looking wildly for wherever the voice was coming from. "I do want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

"Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded."

"You have one hour."

There was a deafening silence as everyone seemed to stare at Harry standing in the middle of the Hall. Parkinson was the first the break the trance, standing from the Slytherin table and rasping a shaking finger towards the boy. "But he's there! Potter's there! Someone grab him!"

The entirety of Gryffindor stood up, followed by Hufflepuff and then Ravenclaw. Wands were raised. Not at The-Boy-Who-Lived, but towards the Slytherin table. "Thank you, Miss Parkinson. You will be first to leave the hall with Mr. Filch. If your house could follow." One by one, the Houses were sent to evacuate and the tables emptied of those who could not or would not fight.

Cormac and I pushed against the flow of the crowd to the front where Kingsley waited. McGonagall had already informed him about the items we had. "Wait here, and you can distribute them where they'll do the most good. I'll trust your judgement on where you believe they should go."

Cormac looked to me as Kingsley spoke to those who had remained to fight. "What's the plan?" I waited, listening to the roles Kingsley had assigned. Those on the ground would get the cloaks. It'd give them an upperhand. The defensive items, like the Glue Bomb, would be split amongst those in the towers and those defending the entrances. I relayed this to Cormac, who nodded in understanding.

As Kingsley assigned troops, we gave the other leaders their share of the items. Arthur Weasley and Professor Lupin were grateful for the cloaks. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall were proud. And Fred and George were surprised.

"Bloody brilliant," Fred said, looking the items over. "After this is all over, I might just have to hire you for the shop. Questionable taste in men aside, you've got some brains." Cormac was out of earshot, speaking with the Weasley patriarch.

"Questionable choice in a compliment aside, thanks. Oh, and you should know that the secret passageways are heavily jinxed and hexed. Cormac and I cleared the ones we knew about, added a couple protections of our own for good measure, but it's been a couple days since."

Fred nodded, looking thoughtfully over at George who was standing with the professors as Kingsley divided the students among them. "Have you been assigned, yet?"

"Not yet."

"Good," he said, turning his attention back on me. "I want you with us. You can tell us which passages you fixed, the spells used, etc. If it'll make you feel better, McLaggen can come along too."

As if his name summoned him, Cormac walked up. "I can come where?"

"With George and I. Persephone was telling me about the passages, and we could use your experience." Fred, despite his earlier humor, sounded civil, but authoritative.

"As much fun as that sounds," Cormac said with a hint of sarcasm, "I already spoke with Arthur about leading an aerial defense under him."

"What?" He hadn't mentioned anything like that to me.

Cormac gave an apologetic smile. "We were talking about the cloaks and how we flew up to get them and it just kind of happened." He would be flying on a broom into the battle. Up there, he'd be a priority target.

"Alright. Sorry Fred. I can write everything down for you really quick."

Cormac shook his head. "You should go with him."

Was he really telling me that he wanted us to split up? We'd survived together, fought for each other, succeeded together. We were just better as a team. "I'm not going to leave you."

"Listen to me, Pers," he implored, gripping my hand. "I hate the idea of not having you with me, but if you're there, I'll be too distracted and worried about you and someone will get hurt because of it. I'd prefer it if you went to the towers, but I have a feeling that's too much to ask. So go with Weasley and use that incredible mind of yours. Alright? Besides, you're horrid on a broom."

A lump formed in my throat and tears flowed freely down my face. This could be the last time I'd ever see him. Pulling him down and not caring who saw, I kissed him. After several long moments, I pulled away from the surprised Cormac. "Be careful." A childlike glaze over his eyes, he nodded dutifully and returned to Arthur's group, departing with them to the grounds.

"Wonder what he did to deserve that," Fred pondered aloud.

I faced him to give a scathing reply, when I saw he was actually talking to George who had definitely seen the whole thing. "We're running short on time," George said to his brother watching anything but me. Did he think that poorly of Cormac?

Minutes later they'd split into two groups, George taking the lower floors and Fred the upper half, and I quickly explained which passages I knew of and had enchanted. Of the seven they knew, we'd taken care of five plus another that even they didn't know that'd I'd found thanks to the Death Eaters guarding it.

"Alright," George said, "Fred and I will double check each of the ones you got to and leave some extra surprises for any unfriendlies trying to use them. Persephone, I need you to take down the curses on the two remaining access points - start with the one on the third floor, where Group G will go, and then move to the one on the sixth, where Group F will be. Throw up a couple protections if you have time, otherwise just stick a couple bombs and let the others worry about protecting it. After that, I want you to head up to the towers and leave some traps in case anyone gets past us."

We headed out, George breaking off on the first floor and the two groups splitting on the third floor. George's group followed me down the corridor to a statue of a humpbacked witch. "Magicae Revelare!" They'd used the most basic dark magic to block the passage, much like the other ones. It seems Voldemort did not send his best or his brightest to guard Hogwarts.

It took only a couple minutes to remove the spells, and two more to add my own. Blindness. Deafness. Fingers bent the wrong way. Ankle bones that turned to stone. If anyone tried to come through, they'd be useless before they could step out.

With a quick nod, I left the first group behind and sprinted up to the sixth floor. Hannah was there with the second group, along with Lee Jordan. As I was adding the new protections, Fred joined us.

"Did you do all those protections, yourself Dankworth? Impressive. And violent. Thought you might just knock 'em out, but you really went for it, eh? I told Georgie you had a wild side."

I gave him a smile as I finished the final spell, stepping back so the others could take up their positions. Fred stood next me, lowering his voice. "I was serious about earlier. We may not be the most prestigious place to work, but if you want a job we could use your talents. We'll pay accordingly too."

"How about we survive the night and then talk about?" I said, only partially joking before continuing on without down the corridor.

He yelled behind me, "You got a deal, Dankworth. McLaggen's a lucky man!"

Despite the circumstances, I grinned as I ran from tower to tower, leaving equally nasty hexes and curses to protect those inside. They'd only affect those who wished ill on children or Muggles, just like the other ones I had cast.

Through a window, there were bursts of light and a horrid scream. The battle had begun.


	35. The Red Dress

  
  
"I think you should become my partner."

The world stopped. _Partner_. He had said he wanted me to be his _partner_. "Partner?"

"Business partner," he clarified.

Words escaped me as I stared at George. I had thought convincing him to let me invest would be difficult, I'd never imagined that he would offer a partnership. It'd been, what, six months that I'd be working for him? Maybe five months actually working together subtracting the four or so weeks he had been hidden in his loft. It didn't seem like enough time for him to be willing to share the business he built with his brother, even if I paid for it. Sure, we had technically known each other for over a decade now and fought in a war together. But before I was his employee we had only ever had three brief conversations spread out across five years.

"I- I don't know, George. This is something you built with Fred. I don't think an outsider like me, one who didn't even use any of your joke items before, would be good as a partner. Not yet."  
  


His slanted grin graced his face. "Well, I, as Fred's twin, can attest that he would think you'd be the perfect choice in a partner." His gaze lingered on his hands for a moment before looking back at me. "You did more in the months you've been at the shop than I did in years. You are the reason that the shop is still going, the reason I finally stopped shutting out the world. Yes, you would be a very different partner from Fred, but you'd be just as good."  
  


My mouth opened and closed, no words able to come out. Partners. Equals. We wouldn't be boss and employee anymore. Still, it was hard to believe. "But it's Weasleys Wizard Wheezes."

"I think Mum and Dad have practically adopted you. Especially after that stunt you pulled with those Warbeck tickets. Honestly, you're basically a Weasley. You even have the sweater to prove it." George was adamant. "I won't accept any money from you unless you agree to be my partner."

"Fine," I agreed. "But we need an impartial third party to go over the books and decide a fair price. No low balling your business."

"We have a deal then," George said, offering his hand. I took it, shaking his hand until a devilish grin spread on his face and he pulled me across the couch into a bone-crushing hug. We laughed childishly as he held me in his lap, fully ignoring how unprofessional and intimate our embrace was. Maybe Cormac had been right.

The following week was a blur. Between the house and the partnership and normal work, I hadn't had any free time. George and I had barely had a second to talk about anything besides business. Still, he managed to leave my heart in flutters with lingering hugs and softly spoken compliments. Every day, it was easier to believe that he might have feelings for me too. Between the little jokes and coy winks, I knew that the second the partnership was signed I would finally tell him. A few weeks to wait was nothing compared to the decade I'd already been silent.

Early Saturday, I headed to Bill and Fleur's cottage. Fleur had recently been promoted at Gringott's and was now working in their Muggle Exchange department, particularly focused on helping witches and wizards receiving or sending large sums of Muggle money. Like selling a house.

"Sephney! Sephney!" a little voice called out.

Little Victoire ran out the front door of her home as fast as her little legs would allow until she ran into my legs and wrapped her tiny arms around them. "Sephney, I missed you!"

Taking her into my arms and carrying her back inside, I told her I'd missed her too.

"So - so Mummy told me that - that you and Georgie are together and buying a house!" she squealed in delight. "Does this mean you're my aunt now?"  
  


"Well,- I, that's not," I stuttered.

She wiggled out of my grip as I tried to talk and ran to the table and back, bring along a piece of parchment with her. "See! I drew a picture! This, this is you! And this is George! And - and this is your house! See!"

"Victoire!" Bill came from another room looking exasperated. "That isn't what Mummy told you. She said that they're _business_ partners and that Persephone is selling a house."

"Oh," she said looking sad. "So Sephney isn't going to be my aunt?"

My heart broke at the sight of the little girl. "No, but I really love your drawing," I told her as knelled down in front of her. "I'm going to hang it up in my office."

"Really?"

I pushed her hair back out of her face. "Really."

She wrapped her arms around my neck as she giggled happily. Bill, with a grateful smile, ushered her out of the room, but only after she made sure I had her drawing. Fleur swept into the room a minute later, apologizing profusely.

"And I zink zat iz all!" Fleur said as she helped compile all of the parchment she had given me, keeping the Muggle papers separate.

"Thank you, I'll be so happy when this is finally done." Vic's drawing was heavy in my pocket. _Soon_.

She gave a brilliant smile. "Zo, are you ready for ze gala?"

My heavy sigh gave her the answer. "No. I'm going dress shopping tomorrow with Ginny and Hermione and, hopefully, I'll have time somewhere to actually write my speech."

"And are you taking a date?" She asked.

"Oh, um, no. No date."

Her perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. "You are not going with George?"

"I mean, he's not my date or anything, but I'm sure we'll, you know, hang out and stuff when we're there. But, yeah, no, um, not a date." Smooth, real smooth Persephone. There was nothing suspicious about that.

She gave me a knowing smile, placing her hand over mine. "You know, Molly and Arthur were very ezited when zey heard zat you were now George's partner. Zey zink of you like a daughter already. Clearly, Vicky would be very happy to call you an aunt. And, I zink zat Bill and I would very much like it, too."

What she said echoed what George had said, but Fleur's confession held more weight. My eyes watered at the implication. They wanted me in their family. And I wanted to be a part of it beyond just me wanting George. Every single Weasley had been welcoming and kind, some even going as far as hexing a man in public for me.

I left shortly after, promising little Victoire I'd see her soon. As I dropped off the papers at home, my mind raced with the knowledge that I wasn't the only person rooting for George and me. If they wanted us to happen and if Cormac even saw it, then it had to be real. It had to be real.

"What about this one?" Ginny asked, spinning on the platform in front of us. The emerald gown fit her snuggly in all the right places with a daring amount of cleavage.

"You look stunning," I told her.

She put her hands on her hips. "You've said that about four dresses now."

I shrugged. "It's not my fault that you look drop dead gorgeous in everything you try on."

She fought the smile on her face, but ultimately failed and turned to Hermione, whose opinion was more, well, opinionated. "She's right on this one, Gin. Honestly, I'd be surprised if you even made it to the gala after Harry sees you in it."

Ginny smiled wickedly as she faced herself in the mirror. After contemplating for a moment more, she decided that the dress was the one. Hermione, who had been able to decide on a lovely lilac dress in the first half hour of looking, scanned the racks as Ginny headed back to change.

"You'll never find a dress if you don't look for one," she warned over her shoulder as I stared out at the street.

"I know," I said. It wasn't that I didn't want to find a dress, I did. But it was too hard to focus on anything other than the shop further down the street where every so often a flash of red hair would go past the windows.

It'd been more than twenty four hours since I'd seen him and it'd be several more before I saw him again. It felt too long to wait and I contemplated whether or not I should walk over and see him for a few minutes to help ease the longing. A few minutes where I could hear his voice, his laugh, or watch him smile would make it easier to focus on finding a gown.

"Whacha you looking at?" Ginny asked beside me.

I flinched, having not heard her approach. I rushed out, "Nothing."

It was too late. She had caught me staring at the shop and Hermione joined seconds later. Both their eyes flickered between me and the shop, their eyebrows raising as they saw George passing by. "Nothing, eh?"

My face flushed as I stuttered out an excuse about being worried the shop was too busy. Neither looked like they bought it. They finished the purchases and herded me out of the store. For a brief, horrifying moment, I thought they were going to march me over to the shop and tell George I'd been practically stalking him from the window. Instead, their arms intertwined in mine and Hermione spun us with a loud crack.

As our feet hit the ground again, we were in an alley of a street I didn't recognize. The street looked to be packed with Muggles going on about their lives, none of them noticing the three women who had appeared from nowhere only a few yards from them. Hermione pulled us opposite from the busy street, further down the alley to a dull blue door. She knocked twice before an older woman with getting hair and cat-eye glasses opened the door.

"Hermione! Oh, sweetie hi! What are you doing here?" the woman exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Hi, Mrs. Roberts. I know it's last minute and we didn't make an appointment, but I was hoping you could help us?"

She smiled widely. "Oh, anything for you, dear! Come in, come in!" The woman ushered us in through the door into a room filled with fabrics seemingly seeing themselves together on mannequins with thread and scissors flying this way and that. All of the things they were sewing were white dresses.

"Where are we?" I whispered to Hermione as we were led through the room to another door.

"Diedra's Bridal."

"Why?"

Ginny responded for her, "To get you a dress without any _work_ distractions."

Oh. "But why a bridal shop?"

The woman, Mrs. Roberts, smiled back at me as she opened the second door. "I have much more to offer than wedding dresses." Behind her was a room with a seemingly endless amount of dresses. Half the room was various shades of whites and creams while the other had more colors than a rainbow. The woman and Hermione spoke briefly while I examined some of the nonbridal dresses on display, actively avoiding looking at brilliant white ones on the opposite side. Ginny, however, was not shy to openly peruse the gowns.

"So what were we thinking for her?" Mrs. Roberts asked, looking me up and down.

"Something that'll make her stand out," Ginny said over her shoulder as she held out the skirt of an ivory dress. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Or maybe something, um, understated?"

My suggestion was ignored as the three congregated around me talking about what colors were okay, the best styles, etc. Mrs. Roberts began waving her wand to pull out different gowns, having them float next to me while the women decided whether or not I should try it on. Within a couple of minutes, they already had an alarmingly growing pile of 'maybe' dresses that they wanted to see me in.

"Not blue," I said. There were at least a dozen gowns in different shades of blue in the pile. "I wore enough blue in my life."

Mrs. Roberts looked between me and the pile. "No blue, then." Blue dresses flew out of the pile, cutting it down a bit. "Anything else we should take out?"

All of it? "Purple and green. Wouldn't want to clash." As much as I would love to wear purple, Hermione had already gotten her dress and she looked gorgeous in it.

The pile was half the size as before, but it still seemed like a headache to try on every single one. "I think we should stick with red," Ginny said. She smirked and added, "That's George's favorite color."

It also quickly became the color of my face. They definitely knew. Did everyone know?

The pile dwindled to only a handful of dresses which I graciously accepted to try on. None of them, however, seemed to work. As I stepped out of the last one, frustrated with myself for being so picky, I heard metal clink and Mrs. Roberts called out that they had found one more for me to try. Reluctantly, I reached out past the curtain to grab the dress that she had left on the hook outside.

As I pulled it back in, the crimson, glittering material entranced me. With every sway of the fabric, it gleaned and sparkled unlike anything I'd ever seen. Watching myself in the mirror, I was unexpectedly infatuated with it. The cowl neck wasn't as daring as Ginny's, but still low enough to have upset my parents while the thigh high slit was high enough to tease anyone who stared too long. But my absolute favorite part of the dress was the back - or the fact that there wasn't one.

Excited squeals escaped the women as I exited the dressing room, them taking in the full view of the front. It wasn't until I stepped on the podium that shocked gasps sounded from them. All of the scars I had spent years hiding were on full display, impossible to ignore as the redness of them matched almost perfectly with the gown itself. Not even a month ago I would have never even considered trying a dress on like this. I would have been too afraid of all the questions, afraid of the person who had caused them. Now? Now I wasn't afraid.

"It's perfect."


	36. The Days To Come

**_George - March 1st, 1996_ **

**_"_** Expecto Patronum!"

Her face scrunched in frustration as nothing happened. Since we learned the charm a few meetings back, she'd struggled in vain to get any result. I'd watched her master every other spell with relative ease, particularly enjoying the time she sent Zacharias flying with a Shield Charm.

Sarah seemed to ask her something before heading off somewhere. Persephone stood there alone looking solemn. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to talk to her, as she was almost never without her friend. The two seemed attached at the hip and it made it difficult to approach her. Speaking to people had never been difficult for me, I could speak to anyone in any place at any time. It never mattered who was around. But it mattered with _her_.

"You just gonna stand there or what?" Fred asked beside me. He thought the situation with Persephone was hilarious. For over a year, he'd offered at least a hundred different plans to help me talk to her, but they'd all either ended in disaster or never came to fruition.

"What am I supposed to say, huh? Oh, I see you're having trouble casting a Patronus, maybe I can help!"

"Offer to help her make a happy memory," Lee chuckled.

An elbow to his side shut him up. "Watch it, mate."

He rubbed his side muttering about it just being a joke. Any plan to talk to her alone was thrown out the window as Sarah returned with Harry. It was obvious that her friend didn't seem to have the same trouble as she did when it came to casting the charm, but Sarah seemed to be holding back and wearily looking at her every time she managed to get even a sliver of silver out of her wand.

Even with Harry's help, Persephone produced nothing. She looked frustrated and defeated as she tried and failed every attempt. It seemed like she was doing everything right, proper stance, though maybe her wand was a little too low. Was she using the wrong memory? Or did she just not have one happy enough?

Harry calling out Fred's name pulled me out of the trance I had been in, hopefully before anyone noticed how long I'd been staring at the three Fifth Years. Harry was calling him over for something and a twinge of jealousy shot through me. Why not me? Why did Fred get to be the one who was around her?

My jealousy dissipated into nausea a minute later as Fred waved me over, an over the top grin on his face. He'd found a way for me to be alone with her and I was not ready for it. Lee gave me a shove to move my feet and I made my way over to the group. Fred winked at me and mouthed, "Have fun," before heading off with her friend. Cheeky basterd.

She looked anxious as she turned from her friend to face me and I wanted to kick Fred for putting her in this situation. She was already embarrassed, even if she didn't have a reason to be, and adding another person she barely knew into the mix must have been even more stressful. I wished he'd understand that not everyone likes being the center of attention."So," I started, "we're working on our Patronuses, right?"

"Yeah," she said in a soft voice.

"Ladies first," I offered.

With her wand raised, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. Her mouth flickered momentarily into a small smile. "Expecto Patronum!" Her smile slipped away as her eyes opened to nothing.

"Great effort," I said. It was, she had done everything right. "Let's try again, yeah?"

Again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

"This is hopeless," she said, sticking her wand in her pocket.

After watching her conquer every other spell, some before even I could, I wasn't going to let her give up. "No, it's not. I know that you can do this. Is it okay if I ask what memory you're using?"

"It's always different. Mostly family stuff. Nothing seems to work though." Hair cascaded over her shoulders in a brilliant waterfall as she pulled out the high ponytail she had it in. For the briefest of moments, the smell of peppermint filled the air and I greedily inhaled the scent. She was mesmerizing as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair, filling the air again with peppermint.

With little warning, she looked back up at me and I covered my mouth and coughed to hide the stupid grin she had put on my face. Trying to think through the haze she'd created in my head wasn't easy. "Okay, how about we try something other than family stuff?" I offered unhelpfully. What are happy memories people have other than that? "Maybe your first kiss?" Oh, that was a stupid question.

A loud snort confirmed it had been a stupid question. But it also confirmed that her first kiss, and presumably any other kisses, weren't something she had fond memories of. Maybe Lee had been on to something...

"Or maybe not," I said after I pulled my mind out of the gutter. "How about a memory with Sarah? You two are close, right?" Practically glued together.

Her face lit up before she'd even raised her wand. This time as she cast the spell, the silvery mist poured from the tip. "I did it!" Her warm hand wrapped around my wrist, sending its heat like a wildfire up my arm. Excited, wide, intoxicating eyes looked up at me. A more beautiful sight had never existed.

"That's great! Think you can do it again?"

She nodded, closing her eyes and lifting her wand again. But in her excitement, she'd lost the proper stance for the charm. Afraid she would be disappointed if she failed again, I told her to wait. Stepping behind her, my foot edged hers out a bit more and my hand guided her wand arm down a fray. Trying to ignore the smell of her hair and the electricity of her skin, I adjusted her grip on her wand. "Okay," I managed in a whisper, "this time I want you to dig really deep. Think about that one moment and just hold on to it." With regret, I slid away from her to give her the space she'd need.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver raven sprouted from her wand, cawing once and flapping its wings before taking flight around the room. "I can't believe it. I _really_ did it."

My arm slung itself around her shoulders as we watched the fantastic creature. Figures at least one Ravenclaw would get a raven. "You _really_ did. And look at that, we both got birds."

"A magpie, right?" She asked before the silver bird dived to the floor and disappeared into a silver mist.

She'd noticed my Patronus? Had she been watching me? "Yep. You know the saying: One for sorrow, two for joy?"

She cocked her head questioningly. "I thought that was about ravens?"

Hmm. "Nope, definitely about magpies." Mum always counted the magpies when they came around.

It wasn't until peppermint flooded my nostrils that I realized I'd brought her closer to me. I let her go immediately, hoping that she hadn't been weirded out by me. There were things I wanted to say, to ask. Just be around her and hear her voice, just the two of us. But Harry had seen her cast the raven and, being the good teacher he was, headed over to congratulate and encourage his student's triumph. Half the DA seemed to follow suit and I fell back with Fred.

"You two looked cozy," he told me.

"Shut up."

Fred rolled his eyes, "Come on, mate! Even her friend kept looking over at the two of you, and I swear I heard her squeal when you had your arm around the girl."

"No, Sarah was worried for her and probably squealed because she had cast a corporal one. It had nothing to do with me."

Lee joined us, sharing the story of how he kept Harry away for as long as he did, leaving Fred in a fit of laughter. I laughed politely, not focused on whatever he had to say. My mind was too consumed by the tingling feeling in my hand, the same one that had gotten a fraction of a second to hold hers.

After Easter holidays, I promised myself, I'd try talking to her again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Persephone_ **

"Dear, are you okay?" Mrs. Peters asked.

That was probably a good question to ask someone who went into shock. A very good question. One that I should probably provide an answer to, but something seemed to have glued my mouth shut. Or maybe it was dry? Yeah, no, that made more sense. Dry.

Licking my lips to help pry them apart, I opened them and then promptly shut them. It didn't seem real. "Are- are you sure?"

Mrs. Peters sat next to her husband and son on the couch across from me, all three smiling. "Quite sure. We can do the inspection tomorrow and wrap up a couple of other things before we do the signing on Friday." The Peters hadn't just been ready to discuss the details of the sale of the house, they were completely prepared for it. And they were offering _cash_. Per their timeline, everything could be completed by Friday, including transferring all the funds. Three days was a much shorter time to wait in comparison to the three-plus weeks I had been expecting.

"Is that too soon? If you need more time, we'll slow it down," the son offered.

"No, no," I said. "No, it's perfect timing, actually."

The stars had aligned for me. The partnership, the dress, the sale, the clear support from the Weasleys. Everything was telling me that it was time for George and me. After a decade, it was finally time.

I set a time I would call each morning and evening to see if anything had changed or needed to be done and left a key with Mrs. Peters so they could do a walk through and let the inspector in. Everything had already been moved out and cleaned, with no magical traces left behind.

That night in my new home, I sat on my couch and stared at Hogwarts as it rose above the horizon. My best and my worst memories lived within its walls and in a few days I would be back again for the first time since the battle. I hadn't even taken my N.E.W.T.s at the castle, instead being allowed with several others who fought to either skip them entirely or take them at the Ministry instead. It was too fresh of a wound to return so early after we had watched so many good people die.

It would be bittersweet to return to the Great Hall especially, but I was determined to enjoy myself and make the best of it. I'd been drowning in sorrow the last time I'd had the opportunity to dress up extravagantly and dance the night away at Hogwart and I didn't want to relive that experience. No, this time I would live in the moment and dance with the boy I had a crush on with the hope that the night ends in a kiss. Or possibly in one of our beds.

If everything worked out like it seemed it was going to and the sale finalized on Friday, then I'd tell George at the gala. After all, I didn't want to jinx anything by telling him that everything would be settled and then having it fall apart somehow. It's not like I would see him much before then, anyway. Due to how hectic my schedule had become, we weren't even working together until the next Wednesday. But with the shops closed Saturday for the Gala, Sunday for recovery from the Gala, and Monday for George's twenty fourth birthday as well as the both of us having Tuesday off to recover from his birthday, I was sure we would have plenty of time to talk.

As I fell asleep watching our old school, my mind wandered thinking of all the possibilities for the days to come.  
  
  
  
  
  


**_George_ **

**_"_** You're not going to a funeral! There's no reason to wear all black!" Ange argued with Lee as he stood on the podium.

Lee shrugged it off, going back to admiring himself in the mirrors in his black on black dress robes. Ange huffed and rolled her eyes as she came and sat down next to me. She was most likely annoyed with the fact that he had invited her along to give her opinions on what we were going to wear and then completely ignoring it. While he did look very good in the robes, she did have a good point. After all, we'd been to enough funerals and memorials that I could go without wearing all black for the rest of my life.

Lee didn't seem to mind, however, and proclaimed that these were the ones he wanted. This caused Ange to mutter something about a Quaffle under her breath that sounded suspiciously hostile. "Hey, it's better than the purple ones George got," he defended.

"Oy! They're only partly purple, alright? And they look fabulous."

Lee snorted laughing as he removed the coat of the robes. "We all know why you got the purple ones, George."

I leaned back in my chair, looking away from them. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I just so happen to look good in purple."

Ange nudged me with her elbow. "Cut the crap, Weasley. She's my friend too, now. I know what her favorite color is. She wears it like four days out of the week."

She really did wear it a lot, but damn did she look good in it. She looked good in everything, though. "So what if I did get it cause of her? There's nothing wrong with it."

Lee shook his head at me. "There's plenty wrong if you don't actually make a move! I swear, if you try to pull the same stunt you did at the Yule Ball, I will personally Full Body Bind you while I tell her everything you have ever said about her. _Every. Single. Thing._ "

"What did I do at the Ball? I didn't even talk to her!"

"Exactly!" Ange chimed in. "You spent half the night talking about asking her to dance and the other half complaining that you should have asked her sooner after she disappeared. Fred wanted to jinx off your mouth!"

I cringed because I absolutely had done that. She had just been so hard to talk to and Sarah had never left her side up until Seph had seemingly left. I'd thought that she'd probably gotten swept off her feet by one of the guys from Drumstrung who'd keenly hung close by the two girls most of the night prior. Now, I realized it had been her first Christmas without her mum and she'd probably gone to bed. "It was a different time. We talk all the time now and I've already danced with her."

"Yet you still haven't told her that you're in love with her."

"That's rich coming from you, Ange. Have you mentioned anything to Katie yet?" She looked away and said nothing. "That's what I thought. Besides, I have a plan."

Saturday would be the day that I tell her. I'd planned it out the same day I asked her to be my partner. It was probably a better idea to wait until we actually were partners, but I'd waited long enough to admit how much I wanted her. If she felt the same, I'm sure a few weeks wouldn't matter much.

"You've got a plan? You could literally just march over to her flat and tell her now!" Lee complained.

Ange rolled her eyes at him. "It's called romance, you muppet. Let 'em be. Wait, you're not planning anything public, are you? You know she'd hate that!"

I chuckled at the thought of her being put in the spotlight like that. Her eyes would go as wide as the Mooncalves she was so fond of. She would very much hate that. "No, nothing like that. It might get people's attention after the fact, but it'll just be the two of us for the most part."

After hearing the plan, even Lee agreed it was better than the spontaneous confession of love he suggested. The only thing I hadn't figured out was whether or not I would tell her I loved her. I certainly did love her, I could even pinpoint the exact moment that I fell in love with her. It was when I saw her doing a very poorly executed dance for the amusement of Vic. It had been a very real question when I asked her that night what kind of ring she wanted.


	37. The Yule Ball

**_Persephone - December 25, 1994_ **   
  
  


The Great Hall was spectacularly decorated, garlands speckled with mistletoe and ivy were strung across the hall and the walls had been consumed by silver, glittering frost. The long House tables had been replaced by smaller, circular tables able to fit a dozen or so each. It was meant to feel merry and magical, and it seemed it had left many in awe of its splendor. But for me, it left my stomach twisted in knots with the threat of tears lingering with every new discovery of Yuletide cheer.

"Why do you look so sad?" The Durmstrang boy next to me asked. He and his friends had decided to claim the other half of our table within minutes of us sitting down. With Cho sitting with the Champions as Cedric's date and Marietta off with Ernie somewhere, Sarah, Audrey, and I were left to sit in the shadow of the older, jollier students from the visiting school.

I shrugged, not wanting to discuss my life with a stranger. "Not really a party person."

"But parties are so much fun!" he said, raising his arm to his friends who responded with approving whoops. When my mood didn't instantly change, he leaned in and lowered his voice to ask, "Did no one ask you?"

It didn't seem like he was trying to be rude, his tone sounded genuinely surprised, but the question left a bitter taste. "Why would that matter? If I'm here not having fun with my friends, then no date could make it better."

"No! I did not mean to offend, it is just I know how girls can be overly emotional about things like that. And, surprisingly, no one asked such a beautiful girl to this dance." The apologetic smile on his face and his moderate Eastern European accent reminded me that he had different customs and cultural expectations. Still, it didn't sit right with me.

"I'd rather be here with my friends than with a pity date." Roger had asked me only a day or two after the initial announcement about the ball - the same day his dad had sent me a package of pastries. Watching as he consistently missed his mouth when he tried to eat while staring at his date, it didn't seem like he took the rejection very hard.

"I'm much more fun than a boy is, anyway," Sarah interrupted with half a mouth full of pork chop. She'd been adventurous and ordered something she'd never heard of off the menu in the beginning, but when she realized Cuisses de Grenouille was French for frog legs, she no longer had a taste for adventure.

He said no more, only giving a forced smile before turning back to his friends and conversing in their native language while occasionally looking our way. Audrey didn't seem to mind her neighbor's attention as she twirled her hair and giggled at something he had said. I wished I could push my thoughts aside for a few hours and enjoy myself too, but it didn't seem like a possibility for me.

"Doing okay?" Sarah asked.

No. No, I wasn't. All I wanted was to go home and be with Dad so he wasn't alone. "I'm fine."

She didn't buy it, but let me eat the legs in peace and started up a conversation with the girl who had sat on the other side of the guy Audrey was talking to.

Dinner wound down and once the food seemed to be all gone, Dumbledore stood up and away from the head table and asked us to follow suit. He waved his wand and the tables and chairs flew back along the walls and a platform raised itself up to my left. Several instruments were placed on the newly created stage, followed shortly by the Weird Sisters who were met with wild applause from hundreds of enthusiastic teens.

The Champions made their way onto the dance floor and Cho looked stunning as she danced with Cedric. They made the perfect couple. Harry looked rather uncomfortable as he spun with Parvati who was clearly taking the lead. Roger only tripped over his feet once as he drooled over Fleur. And Krum and his date were all smiles.

"Is that Hermione?" Sarah asked.

Squinting I could see it was. She looked beautiful but different. I liked her frizzy hair and how she had always embraced it. As long as she was happy though, it didn't really matter.

Slowly others began to join the dance floor. "Would you care to dance?" the boy Audrey had been talking to asked her. She was enthusiastic in accepting his hand and heading out on the floor on the heels of other couples. I watched as the floor flooded with smiling people having the time of their lives.

"May I have this dance?" the Durmstrang boy asked me.

"What? Oh, no. No thank you."

The boy seemed shocked at the refusal, muttering something under his breath as he walked away. Sarah nudged me, giving me a look that asked if I was okay. I wasn't. I didn't want to be here.

"Do you want to leave? We can go back to the dorm." It was kind of Sarah to offer, but I didn't want her to ruin her night because of me.

"No, you should stay. Have fun."

She tried to brush it off, saying it wouldn't be fun without me, but I knew better. "Look, it'll only make me feel worse if you're missing out. Stay, have fun. Maybe ask someone to dance?" I gave a pointed stare in the direction of the girl she had been talking to earlier.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be alone."

The girl gave a glance over at us and blushed before she turned away. "I'm sure. Go." I gave her a gentle push in the girl's direction, watching as she went up to her and asked her for a dance. The two walked out into the crowd together with giddy smiles and disappeared into the sea of dress robes and gowns.

For a few more minutes I watched as my classmates swirled and laughed in the musical chaos. Over the crowd, two tufts of bright red hair stood out. Fred and George were mixed into the madness, hopefully enjoying their nights. I held no contempt for whatever lucky girl George had asked that night - I doubted even his smiling face could make me feel better.

As the song ended, a round of applause erupted and mingled with the sound of a new, faster-paced one. Slipping out the door and climbing up the floors to the tower, the younger year students who hadn't been able to attend the ball stared at me enviously. Away from all curious eyes and in the safety of my bed, I cried myself to sleep holding on to the photo of last Christmas.  
  
  
  
  
  


**_George - December 25th, 1994_ **   
  
  


"Do you see her?" I whispered to Fred as the Ravenclaws entered the Entrance Hall.

"No, not yet. Oh! Oh, there she is! With that girl she's always with!" He pointed out the two girls who were walking arm in arm down the stairs. Persephone looked breathtaking in her royal blue gown, delicate waves framing her face. "Looks like she doesn't have a date either, eh?"

She seemed to glide across the floor as she and Sarah made their way into the Great Hall, neither seeming to look around for anyone. My feet carried me after her, wanting to find a seat at whatever table she sat at. Fred wasn't as keen as I was to follow behind the girls, grabbing the back of my dress robes as she disappeared in the sea of students heading inside. "Where do you think you're going?"

I swatted his hand away. "I'm trying to sit next to her! Or at least near her."

"Then you should have actually _asked_ her. But you didn't and unless you want to go alone, we're going to wait for my date."

It was tempting to ditch Fred. He already had a date, he didn't need me. But the thought of going up to her alone and having her friends around - no. No thank you. Waiting a few minutes wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting on the other side of the Hall from her and her table that was completely full. Angelina and the other girls in our year had apparently snuck in a bottle of Firewhiskey and were having too much fun in their dormitory to come down with the rest of the House.

From my seat, I could see her fairly okay. Some guy from Durmstrang had sat in the seat next to her and kept glancing her way. Lucky bastard.

"Jeez, Weasley. You look like you're about to curse someone," Lee said from beside me.

Fred pointed over to the table Persephone was sitting at. "He probably does want to curse that bloke. He didn't have the balls to ask the girl he's been stalking for- what a whole month now? -so instead he's sulking."

"I wasn't stalking her."

Fred laughed loudly. "What would you call following her around and eavesdropping on conversations?"

"Shh!" I glanced around, hoping no one had heard his outburst. People were too engrossed in their own conversations to have noticed, thankfully. "I was just...curious, okay? I wanted to get to know her."

Ange's laugh cuts through the buzz of conversation. "You know there's a better way to do that. It's called talking to her."

Food began to appear on plates as people started ordering their food. Persephone's friend grimaced as she looked down at her plate and, seemingly without a word, Persephone switched their plates around. "I can - and I will - talk to her. But there are things you can only notice about people when they don't think they're being watched."

"It's creepy, mate."

I couldn't argue against that. It probably was creepy, just watching her from a distance. But Merlin, the thought of actually talking to her was terrifying. She was never alone and spent far too much time in the library. Madam Pince was not a fan of Weasleys.

I couldn't even talk to her about her winnings for the first task - winnings she'd rejected from Fred based on the technicality that both Harry AND Krum had won. She'd walked away from sixty Galleons like it meant nothing to her. She was sitting in a clearly new, well-made gown while I sat in dress robes older than Aunt Muriel only made presentable by Lee's expertise.

 _She doesn't care about that_. How would I know? I've had one short conversation with her, can't figure out her entire personality from stalking. "I'm going to ask her to dance."

"Yeah, and I'm going to pass my N.E.W.T.s with all O's."

Laughter echoed around me at my expense, but that was fine. "I'm going to ask her. Besides, she looks absolutely miserable next to that bloke." She did look miserable as she munched on her food, not smiling as the guy tried to have a conversation with her.

"Listen, if you actually pluck up the courage to ask her, I'll sneak some of the Puking Pastilles to some of the Slytherins tomorrow morning," Fred promised.

The others encouraged me a few minutes more before turning the conversation into livelier topics. I did my best to join in, but my mind kept wandering to the pretty girl in the blue dress. So much so that I'd barely eaten anything by the time Dumbledore cleared the plates and cleared the way for the Champions to dance.

We watched as Harry was led by Parvati in the dance, much to her annoyance. Fred cracked a few jokes at his expense before asking Angelina to join them on the floor. I scanned the crowd looking for my own hopeful partner, only to find I'd managed to lose sight of her. The dance floor was filling quickly and the song soon came to an end. The happy couples clapped and soon were dancing to a new, merrier song. But Persephone was nowhere in sight as I made my way through.

The night wore on and no one else saw her. "Maybe she wasn't as miserable as you thought,"

Lee said. "Could have gone off with the Durmstrang bloke."

The Slytherins got to enjoy a peaceful breakfast the next morning.


	38. The Return To Hogwarts

Hogwarts stood tall and proud in the light of the late afternoon sun. Had I not seen the destruction firsthand, I would have never believed that a battle could have taken place there. The only reminder of the battle was a long, black, glittering stone that they had erected a few months after. It told the story of the battle and listed the name of every person who had died at the hand of Voldemort and his followers.

There were hundreds of names from decades of violence, Muggle and Magical intertwined.

"You okay, Seph?" Ginny asked as she came to stand next to me by the window, already dressed in her green gown. She looked spectacular with her hair falling in waves around her. Hermione had been right about Harry liking the dress, so much so that Ginny had decided it would be best to get ready with me to avoid the possibility of missing the gala altogether.

"Yeah," I said, dragging my eyes from the castle. "Just preparing myself."

She gave a sad smile, intertwining her fingers between mine. "It was hard going back for me, too. I had to take my meals in the Common Room for a whole month because I couldn't stop crying every time I went into the Great Hall. I just kept seeing Fred."

My eyes closed, hoping to close out my own image of seeing Fred laying unmoving on a cot. It had felt like an awful nightmare that I couldn't wake up from when I saw body after body after body lined up. Professor Vector, Roger Davis, Terry Book, Ernie MacMillian, Micheal Corner, Padma Patil, her sister Parvati. Fifty bodies. Fifty lives ended for nothing. "How did you get through it? How did you stop seeing him?"

"I didn't stop seeing him," she said in a wispy, far-off voice that sounded more like it belonged to Luna than to her. "I saw every smile, every laugh. Every good memory I could muster. I realized that the best way to honor him and everyone else was to live my life to the fullest. After that, I didn't cry as much."

"You know he offered me a job that night?" I said with a laugh despite the tears that had begun to fall. "I hope he's happy that I finally took it."

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I know he would be. Especially since you and George found each other, too."

I followed her gaze to the wall opposite the window, where right above two desks hung three frames. The picture Victorie had drawn hung proudly in the middle and on either side were the photos of George and I that Colin Creevey had managed to capture.

The world and everyone in it seemed hell-bent on getting George and I together. It was about time we listened.  
  
  


**_George_ **

_Late_. Why was she _late_? I'd expected her to be one of the first people at the gala, if not the first. It would have been less surprising if she had gotten here this morning than her not being here now. "Any sign of them?"

Percy, Ron, and Harry all shook their heads. As if any of them could see them before I did.

"Any sign of who?" A voice asked from behind, causing Ron to flinch.

Behind us were three of the women we had been waiting for. Ginny, Hermione, and Aubrey were dressed to the nines. Ginny's dress was definitely more than what any brother wanted to see their sister wear, but none of us were going to say anything. I'd seen Ron experience enough of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex to know that my opinion was not wanted or appreciated.

"When did you three get here?" Percy asked, greeting his fiancée with a kiss.

"We've been here for an hour," Ginny said, looking slightly peeved. "How did all of you manage to find women who believe being on time is _late_? Remind me to get ready and go with Fleur next time. She knows how to be fashionably late."

"Where's Persephone?" I asked, interrupting the friendly bickering that started between Hermione and Ginny.

The girls looked at each other, smiling. "She's in the staff room behind the head table. She was helping Cho with some stuff," Audrey offered.

"Is she going to be coming out any time soon?"

Hermione put her fingers to her chin in an exaggerated attempt to look thoughtful. "Umm, I'm not sure. Ginny?"

"Sorry, George, I don't remember when she said she'd be out. Maybe someone should go ask her?" The girls looked at me expectantly while the boys looked slightly confused.

"In the staff room?" I asked, not waiting for an answer as I passed through the buzzing crowd towards the back of the Great Hall. My name was called a few times and I waved to people, but I didn't stop to chat. At the door, I hesitated.

I hadn't seen her in days. It had been horrible but had also made it easier to stop myself from blurting out my feelings. There was a plan in place, something that would hopefully convey just how much she meant to me, and I didn't want to ruin it by telling her just yet. She deserved the best.

Taking a deep breath, I went inside.

She and Cho were at the other end of the room talking, her back turned towards me. It allowed me to take in the sight of her in a dazzling red dress. Dozens of angry red scars down her back were framed by the edges of the glistening material, a reminder that she was more than just a beautiful girl in a pretty dress.

She was a Survivor. A Fighter.

She was a mesmerizing sight as she turned, the gown hugging her body in a way that made me immensely jealous of its fabric. It was her face, however, that stole my breath. There was a glow I'd never seen in her smile before and a look in her eyes that made my knees weak.  
  
  


**_Persephone_ **

The sound of the door opening and closing alerted me to the new presence. George stood at the other end of the room in black and purple dress robes. He was staring, his mouth slightly ajar.

Cho chuckled and excused herself, slipping out another door and leaving just the two of us in the room. "How do I look?" I asked, gesturing to my dress.

"Aphrodite herself would be jealous."

"Wow. You should be careful," I said walking towards him and admiring how incredibly good he looked. Reaching up, I fixed his crooked tie. "Statements like that have caused wars before."

"You would be worth fighting for."

Smoothing out the lapels on his robes, I felt my face burn. How easy it would be to grab him by those lapels and kiss him right there. To skip the gala altogether and spend the night at his place or mine. He looked good in his robes, but the memory of how he looked in just a towel...

_Get your mind out of the gutter._

Unfortunately, I couldn't leave. I was up to speak later and the Headmistress had said she wanted to speak with me later. Besides, I wasn't absolutely positive that George felt the same yet and I didn't want to risk the pain of rejection until after I'd gotten through my speech. But if the way George was looking at me now was any indication, he was, at the very least, attracted to me. From the tent in his pants, he was _very_ attracted to me.

"You don't look half bad yourself, partner. Purple is a good color on you. But," I said, pulling out my wand from a place that made his eyes bulge, "I think red would be better just for tonight." I watched as the purple in his robes turned to the same crimson of my gown. "Have to put up a unified front, you know?"

He nodded, swallowing hard and looking away from me. Were it not for a loud knock at the door, I would have certainly given in to my earlier temptation and taken him back to Hogsmeade. Taking a step away from him and smirking as he tried to covertly adjust his pants, I called for whoever was waiting to come in.

"Persephone?" A boy with sandy blonde hair and a limp walked into the room, Professors McGonagall and Sprout not far behind.

"Aiden?" My voice cracked. The last time I had seen the boy, he'd barely turned twelve and was evacuating the school before the final battle. He'd been much shorter than me back then but now stood nearly as tall as George. "When did you grow up?"

He gave a bright smile, giving me a friendly hug. "I'm 'bout to turn sixteen, couldn't stay a scrawny little First Year forever."

"You'll always be a scrawny little First Year to me," I said with a laugh as I wiped away one of the tears that had fallen down my cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"When he heard you were going to be here, he was very adamant that he got to speak with you," Professor McGonagall said.

I looked at the boy, confused. "I'm just down in Hogsmeade most days, you could have come and spoken to me. Or written me."

He gave a shy shrug, looking at the ground. His smile was slipping. "I've been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for a while. About a year, really. I - I never properly thanked you for what you did." The professors both came to his side, placing their hands on his shoulders. He took in a shaky breath. "It really wasn't until I visited Miss Chang during summer that she told me the whole story."

"Aiden, you don't owe me anything."  
  


"But I do. I thought you looked out for me because you looked out for everyone. I didn't realize...I didn't realize it was because you felt guilty about Carrow. That wasn't your fault what he did. You went through hell cause of it. Cause of me."

Taking his hand much like Ginny had done for me earlier, I smiled kindly. "That wasn't your fault either. I chose my path, my role. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else and I would have done the same thing. The only thing you owe me is living a good, long, happy life. And maybe a visit every now and then."

He hugged me again, promising to write me soon, and left with his Head of House. McGonagall watched them leave and turned back towards George and I. He had slumped his arm around my shoulders like he so often did. "I believe Mr. Lucas is right in saying you went through hell. I assume those scars were your uncle's handiwork."

My smile remained, unabashedly proud of my marks. "He never wanted me to forget him. And I'll never forget that blissful sight of him and Alecto hanging from the ceiling in the Common Room after Harry gave him a taste of his own medicine. Or the sight of him in Azkaban."

She reached out, stroking my cheek like a mother does for their child. "You should have been a Gryffindor."

"I think not!" a voice squeaked. "You lions can't have all the glory!" Professor Flitwick appeared next to McGonagall, apparently having come in through the open door unseen. "Hello, Persephone! George! How lovely to see you two! Minerva, Cho was asking for you. I believe she needs help setting something up."

"Oh yes, it's probably that Muggle contraption Creevey brought along. Alright, well Persephone good luck with your speech and don't forget we have something important to talk about later. I'll see you both out there!"

"I don't think I've ever had a professor tell me that it was lovely to see me before," George laughed as they left. His arm slipped down my arm to my waist. The tension that had subsided thanks to Aiden's interruption reared back up as his thumb grazed the skin of my back. Merlin, it was going to be a long couple of hours. "Come along then, Seph, I think it's time we step out. It'd be criminal to keep such a gorgeous sight all to myself.


	39. Support and Assistance Regarding Acceptance to Hogwarts

The Great Hall was abuzz as we walked out of the staff room, my arm around the most beautiful woman that had ever existed. Just the briefest of touches on her back had me regretting my decision not to be impulsive. How easy it would be to sneak out with her and make our way into the shop, leaving a trail of clothes as we ascended the stairs before collapsing on the couch together. Kissing every inch of her, caressing her skin slowly, sinking into her...

_"Blimey mate, you're in a public place!"_

I pushed down the depraved thoughts, trying to focus on anything else to clear my mind. She was leading us to our table, the one we would share with my siblings and their partners. Her smile beamed brightly as she waved hello to people, unbothered by the shocked gasps and whispers that followed behind us as people took in the view of her scars.

She'd come a long way in the months she'd been at the shop. She was no longer the shy, quiet girl I had had a crush on in school. Instead, she had grown into a vibrant, confident woman who I had fallen head over heels in love with.

The others were already at the table, Bill and Fleur had arrived at some point while we had been busy. The girls had either warned the others about the scars or they were far too used to seeing cursed wounds, as none of them reacted in shock at seeing her back. Fleur embraced her tightly, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.

Seph took the seat I offered her, smiling at me graciously as I took the seat next to her. Soon the other tables were filled and menus appeared across our plates. Cho graced the stage for a few minutes, thanking everyone for coming before releasing us to eat. Not long after most of us had finished our plates, Seph tapped her glass to get the table's attention.

"So as you all know, George and I are in the process of becoming partners at the shop. I've been working with my old neighbor to sell my parents' house to buy in." Her hand slid over mine as excitement lit up her eyes. "As of yesterday, it's sold."

"Sold? You've signed the contract?"

"I've got the Galleons in the bank. Well actually, the shop's got them in the bank. Fleur confirmed the transfer this morning." Fleur nodded in confirmation with a bright grin.

My hand turned and intertwined its fingers with Seph's. "We're partners?"  
  


**_Persephone_ ** ****

"We're partners," I affirmed.

He pulled the hand he was holding up and pressed his lips against it. I could feel him chuckle against it before he repeated again. The others were quiet, only Ron's voice cutting through the chatter.

"Congratulations! Wow, partners. Fred would have gotten a kick out of seeing a Ravenclaw owning part of the shop. You're not gonna change the name, are you? Cause no offense, but Dankworth doesn't really go all too well."

"Ronald!"

"Shut it!"

"What? I'm just saying that it wouldn't sound right, you know? ' _Weasley & Dankworth's Wizard Wheezes_' doesn't have the same ring to it."

"Shut up, mate!"

"No, Ron. We're not going to be changing the name," I said, pulling my eyes away from George. The whole table seemed to be watching the two of us like we were two Seekers who just found the Snitch.

"We're all very happy for you two," Percy said with a knowing smile.

Everyone knew.

Ron enthusiastically added, "Yeah! Maybe you'll actually give me a discount on all the stuff again. George took it away when I stopped working there."

Maybe not everyone.

"Persephone!" Cho's voice called from behind me. "It's time!"

I gave her a thumbs-up, letting her know I'd be up in a minute. They all wished me luck, George pressing a kiss against my cheek. "You'll be incredible up there, partner."  
  


**_George_ **

I watched as she walked with Cho up to the podium where I'd watched Dumbledore speak during my seven years of schooling. Her shoulders were pulled back, her head held high, and each of her steps purposeful. Others in the Hall watched her as well. Dean and Seamus sat at a table with Neville, Hannah, Luna, Lavender, Lee, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Dennis, and a guy I didn't recognize - all staring as the two stood at the front of the Hall.

The chatter in the Hall died quickly as Cho tapped her wand against the wooden podium twice, the sound echoing between the walls.

"Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished guests. It is an honor to be here with you tonight in support of Witches and Wizards Home for Change. We are here this evening to celebrate the positive impact the Home has had in our community as well as the lives it has been able to change. The impact and changes it will continue to have thanks to your generous donations and the continued support of the Ministry.

But before I get into our future plans and projects for WWHC, I wanted to highlight one of the people who helped inspire it. She was a member of Dumbledore's Army, a participant in both the Battle of the Astronomy Tower and the Battle of Hogwarts, as well as an exceptionally skilled witch who I have been lucky enough to call my friend. I'm incredibly proud to introduce Persephone Elizabeth Dankworth."

The crowd applauded as Cho stepped aside for Seph, Ginny and myself far louder than was probably appropriate for a non-sporting event. Seph's face was as red as it was on the day of the First Task as she waited for the room to quiet down. Her eyes swept across the room as it fell into silence. Her gaze met mine and her smile widened.

"My father was born Erasmus Xanthe Carrow..."

As she spoke, telling the story of her parents and Sarah, the room was captivated by her. Dean was crying, Seamus's arm around him comfortingly. Hermione sat biting her finger, her undivided attention on Seph. Even Ron, whose attention span was less than impressive usually, listened intently.

"My father, the Pureblood Slytherin raised to believe in bigotry and hate, gave his life to protect my best friend, a Muggleborn, because he chose to believe in love and acceptance. He died because he believed in a better world where people were not considered less than because of who their parents were.

Cho and the Witches and Wizards Home for Change embody that belief. They have helped people, no matter their names or the side their family supported in the war, because people are people and do not deserve to be punished for the crimes of others. Their support has helped children, who otherwise would have fallen through the cracks, succeed and make our community a better, more tolerant place.

They've combatted the hate that tore our world apart with the same love and acceptance my father died for. So thank you for choosing to support Witches and Wizards Home for Change. Thank you for honoring all those who sacrificed their lives because they believed in a better world. Thank you for choosing to support love."

**_Persephone_ **

I stepped back from the podium, grateful that I didn't vomit all over it like I thought I was going to. Cho thanked me and went on to explain the charity's plans for the coming year as I made my way back to my seat. It wasn't until I sat back down that I allowed myself to let out a long shaky breath of relief that it was over.

"Like I said, incredible," George whispered, finding my hand under the table and resuming his possession of it.

I mouthed, 'Thank you,' and squeezed his hand. Neither of us let go as we continued to listen to Cho.

"And lastly I wanted to share with you a new program that we will be beginning this summer in conjunction with Hogwarts and the Ministry. The program - which was suggested by one of my kids, Lewis Nott - will be targeted mainly towards students the summer prior to their First Year that will focus on bridging the gap between students raised in the Muggle world and those raised within the Wizarding community. It will allow those future students and their parents to interact with and learn more about each other as well as providing an easier transition to Hogwarts. This program will provide resources, such as owls, and host events for all students during the summer months.

This program will be called Support and Assistance Regarding Acceptance to Hogwarts, or as I like to call it: S.A.R.A.H."

My view of her blurred and my free hand covered my mouth at her announcement. I could hear Audrey openly crying a few seats away as Cho continued to talk about the program she had named after our friend. George scooted his chair closer, pulling me into him.

Cho finished shortly after, Audrey and I rushing forward to embrace her with Marietta not far behind. The four of us held each other for several minutes, crying and laughing as we talked about how much Sarah would have loved to have something named after her.

Cho was eventually dragged away by Dennis Creevy and another man he introduced as his brother, Benjamin. Apparently, Dennis and Colin had an older brother who hadn't gotten their magical abilities but had been a big influence in Colin's obsession with photography. I'd have to ask Cho about him later as I watched him give her a quick kiss when they were nearly out of eyesight.

The Weasleys, Dean, Seamus, and a slew of others were soon surrounding us. There were many tears and hugs. Angelina even congratulated me about the shop, George having told her about it while waiting for the excitement around me to die down.

"Alright, alright, you have all monopolized my partner long enough," George said to the remaining members of the group that were still hovering around us. He put his hand in the center of my back to steer me away from the hoard and the intimate touch sent an involuntary shiver down my body "It's my turn now."

Hopefully, he wouldn't mind monopolizing me for a few days.

"One moment, Mr. Weasley," the stern voice of the Headmistress rang out. Could I ever have a moment with George without someone interrupting? Her ever watchful eyes peered over the group, noticeably stopping on a few of us. "Dankworth, Longbottom, and Potter - I expect to see you three in my office in twenty minutes. The password is biscuit."

"She can't still give us detention, can she?" Neville asked, his eyes fixed on her retreating figure.

"Oh she absolutely can," Harry said with a bright smile.

Curiosity seemed to gnaw at everyone except George and I.

"Come with me," he whispered, his fingers slipping between mine again as he pulled me through the crowd. He led me out of the Great Hall, through the back of the Entrance Hall, and ducked behind the tapestry that hid the staircase.

Around and around we went until we reached the third floor. He pulled me down the corridor, coming to a rest near the end. "Do you remember this?"

"Of course I do," I told him. It was the place we had first met.

He looked down the corridor fondly. "Freddie damn near talked my ear off about abandoning him during such an important time."

"Important time?"

A mischievous glint lit up his eyes. "Percy was set to patrol this floor the next night. First time on Prefect duties. We wanted to leave a surprise for our dear brother." His hand seemed to fit so naturally in mine, like two pieces of a puzzle. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you three years later."

"I had changed quite a bit."

He laughed, "A bit? Ha! Puberty hit you harder than a Bludger."

"Um, thanks?" I laughed back, remembering just how unappealing George had left many opposing players back when he was a Beater.

"Oh, no, not like that!" He faced me, taking a hold of my other hand, and stammered, "It's a good thing! Not that you weren't pretty before, because you were! You just looked different, ya know?"

"George," I said, cutting his rambling short.

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply. "You're absolutely beautiful, Persephone. And I'm not just talking about tonight, though you do look positively stunning in that dress. Every day and in every way, you're beautiful."

My breath caught in my throat as the flickering lights of the lanterns danced in his warm, brown eyes. The pounding of my heart was so loud, I'm sure he must have heard it as he stepped closer. His thumbs grazed the back of my hands, leaving trails of sparks behind them.

"Persephone," he said with a husky voice, "there's something I want to show you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Meet me on the Quidditch pitch after you're done talking to McGonagall?"

"Okay."

His lips pressed softly into my forehead as he leaned in. "I'll see you soon."

The promise lingered even after he disappeared down the stairs. This was it. It was really happening.


	40. The Quidditch Pitch

It took a minute to pull myself out of the spot George left me in, trying to calm my breathing and slow my heart. Our story had been a decade in the making and we were finally at the climax of it. It had always been him. Since that night with a chance meeting in this very corridor, he was the one.

There was only one more obstacle standing in the way - Headmistress McGonagall. With a deep breath, I forced myself to walk down the opposite way from where George had gone. I could have told her that I didn't have time or that an emergency popped up but, even after all these years, I couldn't bring myself to lie to a teacher.

" _Biscuits_ ," I said to the gargoyle that stood at the entrance of the office. It bowed its head and moved aside. Ascending the great spiral staircase, voices floated down. It seems I was late.

"Ah, Miss Dankworth, there you are," McGonagall greeted. She sat behind the grand desk, surrounded by three other professors: Flitwick, Sprout, and Sturgis Podmore who had been the DADA professor since the end of the war. Harry and Neville were seated in two of the three seats across from them.

I scurried to the empty chair, muttering an apology and trying not to trip. Merlin, I'd been out of school for nearly four years now and I was still a spinless kiss arse.

"As I was telling Potter and Longbottom, thank you for taking the time to come and speak with us. I know you'd probably prefer to enjoy your night, but we couldn't pass the perfect opportunity to speak to you three together."

"After much back and forth, Pomona, Filius, and Sturgis have decided that it is time for retirement and they will not be returning next year. While I am incredibly happy for them, it does leave me three professors short for core curriculum. That is where you three come in. Each of you were the first choices to take over their positions."

My mouth hung slightly open. I had been a good student, great even, but I'd never considered myself on par or even near as good as any of my professors. Neville, yes. He already held great esteem amongst the students for how he led them during our last year. His knowledge of magical plants was beyond anything I'd seen. And Harry already had the experience teaching.

"Harry and Neville, I am aware that you are both very active in your roles as Aurors. I have already spoken with Robards and Kingsley and they agree that you both would be the perfect successors to Sturgis and Pomona. They believe that the department can carry on without you and you will have several months to prepare it before your departure."

The two men looked like little kids on Christmas morning. They both readily agreed with no further questions or time to consider.

"Persephone, I must say we've all been impressed with the products you released. As much as we would all to see what you would come up with next, we believe that you could be an incredible asset to our students as our new Charms professor." The four professors looked on expectantly, as if they knew it was an offer I could not refuse.

My mouth was dry as I considered what to say. "I- I appreciate the offer. Really, it's the highest compliment I think I've ever received. But I can't take the job."

What followed was a level of silence that could unnerve even Madam Pince. It was a nightmare I had had a hundred times during school: giving the wrong answer to a professor and being judged for it by everyone listening.

"Are you sure?" Flitwick squeaked. "I'm sure Mr. Weasley would understand you taking the position. You wouldn't have to live at Hogwarts, either. Relationships aren't as difficult to maintain as you may think." _Everyone_ knew.

"I'm sure George would be perfectly fine with me the position," I said, knowing he would support anything I did, "but I _love_ my job. I'm the happiest I've been in a long time because of it. Thank you for considering me but, as I said, I can't accept it."

McGonagall took a sharp intake of breath and tapped her finger against the wooden desk. Her face had turned into the hard, stern expression that had struck fear into decades of students. "Well, I do not believe that any of us would ever have suspected that you would not only work at a joke shop, but that you would choose to keep your job there over a prestigious position at Hogwarts. It is truly a surprise."

The trip to Azkaban had been less terrifying than watching my worst childhood fear come to life. I'd have preferred one of my uncle's torture sessions to the overwhelming sense of disappointment radiating off of the Headmistress. "Pro- Professor, I'm sorry, it's just -just I really enjoy - you know, the shop, it -it has more than joke stuff - "

McGonagall held up her hand, silencing my rambling. "I am pleased to see that you have found happiness." A small smile broke her severe manner and shattered the anxiety that had started suffocating me. "After everything you've suffered through, it is the least you deserve."

My heart unclenched at her approval and understanding. I hadn't just experienced the stinging disappointment of one of the most respected witches in the Wizarding World.

"The very least," Professor Sprout added with a nod. "You've given more than enough in service to Hogwarts and its students. All of you have."  
  
  
  
  
  


**_George_ **

This was it. Tonight was the night. Seven years in the making, maybe even longer if I wanted to count that night in the corridor. Maybe if I had taken the time back then to talk to her, we wouldn't have taken so long to get here.

Bounding down the last steps of the hidden staircase and past the open doors that led into the now lively party, I was practically sprinting outside. There had to be plenty of time for me to double check everything had been set up properly. Madam Hooch had readily agreed to help out in exchange for season tickets to the Holyhead Harpies which Ginny had provided, no questions asked. I'd have to remember to get my sister a damn good birthday present.

The long, black, glittering stone slowed my steps. I'd purposely avoided it earlier, claiming to my brothers that I wanted to find Persephone first. It hadn't been a lie but it hadn't exactly been truthful. In the years since the Battle, I'd only been back to Hogwarts once. I had been there the day they revealed the monument and locked myself away from everyone not long after. If it wasn't for having Persephone and my family with me tonight, it was doubtful that I would have even been here.

Skipping past the story of the Battle, my finger searched the names directly underneath. The Fallen Fifty. The last fifty to die because of Voldemort. At the bottom of the list, in bold white letters, was **Fred Weasley**. Guilt swarmed in my stomach. I hadn't visited his grave since the funeral.

"I'm sorry, mate. I guess I've been a pretty horrible brother, huh?" I said aloud.

_"Pretty shit, actually."_

Maybe it was because we were twins and I knew him so well that his voice had become my conscience. Or maybe it was guilt. "Sorry mate, I'll make it up to you soon. At least I'm finally taking your advice. Even taking a page out of your book and going big for it."

_"Right, I'll believe it when I see it."_

"It's going to happen this time. I've waited long enough. Maybe it didn't happen before for a reason. Maybe we both needed time to fix ourselves. You should see her now, Fred. She's divine. She looks the same really - it could just be me being head-over-heels in love with her - but I swear she's got this glow about her now. And Merlin, that dress she's wearing!"

_"Alright, alright. Keep it in your pants."_

"Can't keep any promises there, mate. It's been a while." There had been a few flings in that first year of the shop being open after I'd already given up on the idea of Persephone. Between the war and my self-imposed isolation, there hadn't been a lot of opportunities since.

"Guess I better get over there. Got to make sure everything is ready. But I'll...I'll go see you soon, Freddie."

_"Good luck."_

Hooch had gone above and beyond in setting up. A curved wall of candles, photographs, and glittering red stones hung suspended in the air. Dennis had been kind enough to send me all the photos he had of Persephone and I'd spent hours Transfiguring stones into rubies. All for this. All for her.

"Wow."

Ange walked through the tunnel leading into the Quidditch Pitch, her gaze shifting over the setup. After she had heard the plan, she wanted to see it with her own eyes and had volunteered to help. Her steps were slow as she took in the full sight. "You really outdid yourself, Weasley."

"So you think I have a shot?"

She stopped to look at some of the photos, her fingers grazing over the one of Persephone and I the Prophet had used during Skeeter's attack on her. It was too good of a photo not to keep. "With all this? It's beautiful."

"Is that a yes, then?"

She chuckled, turning away from the photo. "How on earth could any girl ever say no to all this? It's definitely a yes." She stood next to me, bringing me into a side hug. "I'm glad you've finally decided to do this."

"Me too, Ange. Me too."

We admired the scene for a minute more before she went off to hide. As much as I was grateful for her help, I really didn't want her to be seen. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. It had already been an hour since I left her in the corridor. Had McGonagall really needed to spend this long talking to her?

"Oi, I'm going to go see if I can find her! I'll be right back!" I yelled out to Ange who gave a shout of acknowledgment. Ange would need to be added to the list of people who deserved an extravagant birthday present.

The night was slightly chillier than usual as I walked back towards the jovial sounds from the castle. Hopefully, the weather wouldn't bother her too much. Halfway up the path, I spotted her sparkling red dress in the distance.

But she was heading away from the Quidditch Pitch and towards the gates that led back into Hogsmeade, her back towards me. And she wasn't alone.

Cormac McLaggen was with her.


End file.
